


Flights of Fancy

by CodenameEternity, xRaeAsakurax



Series: Idiots In Love [1]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: (like really minor), Angst, Background Relationships, Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, Fireflight is also a klutz, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Minor Character Death, Smut, Spoilers for Aliens?, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Sunstreaker is an artist, and Fireflight just wants along for the ride, and proud of it, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 60,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25073404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodenameEternity/pseuds/CodenameEternity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRaeAsakurax/pseuds/xRaeAsakurax
Summary: It's an unexpected courting to be sure, one that Sunstreaker doesn't even realize is a courting at first. Thing is, Sunstreaker's never accepted anyone's courting before, though not for a lack of attempts. So what makes Fireflight so special?Sunstreaker would like to know that too.
Relationships: Fireflight/Sunstreaker (Transformers)
Series: Idiots In Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815895
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. A Work of Art

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing evolved from a crack ship moment in another story of mine that's in progress. My brain took it and ran to Mars and back with it, and this was a result. Huge shout out to my beta for writing pretty much half of it! 
> 
> Most of Fireflight is her fault.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the crack and leave here with at least one new ship under your belt. It's not necessary to read Sideslip as well, but I'd recommend it!

It started with a sketch, ostensibly.

Sunstreaker hadn’t been feeling particularly social when Sideswipe dragged him up to the rec room to get them out of their quarters, so while his twin immediately made a beeline for where Bumblebee, Hound and Bluestreak were gathered around a table laughing at something Jazz was gesturing animatedly about, Sunstreaker instead curled up in an empty club chair in the back of the room, pulled a sketchpad and charcoal pencil from subspace and began to sketch absently.

While he might not have been up to putting on faceplates and creating small talk he was still perfectly content to bask in his brother’s happy half of the bond. As long as Sideswipe was having a good time, Sunstreaker was too. He wasn’t paying too much attention to what he was sketching out, distracted by the bond and his own thoughts. He just let his digits go, the sound of the pencil skittering over paper comforting and familiar and good background noise against the constant hum and oscillations of the voices all around the room.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, absorbed and on automatic, but he was interrupted a while later by an unexpected mech, face peering curiously over one shoulder at the picture he’d been working on.

“Oooh, that’s pretty!” Fireflight commented, making Sunstreaker almost jump out of his plating as he was brought abruptly back to the present. He fought the automatic reaction to draw his blades and instead exhaled rather shakily. “Where is that? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.”

Sunstreaker looked down at his pad, and when he noticed the rough but unmistakable scene of the skyline of Praxus a touch of sadness twinged at him.

“Praxus,” he replied quietly, “before it fell. I doubt you’ll have ever seen it, we’re pretty careful to keep stills and vids not so easily accessible. Bluestreak doesn’t deal too well with sudden reminders.”

“Wow, really? It must have been gorgeous to fly over.” Fireflight almost sounded wistful, and Sunstreaker nodded absently before looking at the young flyer properly and frowning slightly.

“What are you doing here anyway? Where’s your gestalt?”

“Oh, they’ll be here soon. They’re down with First Aid at the moment, Skydive’s got a bent aileron.” Fireflight gestured at another table, where Sunstreaker could see Slingshot sat with five cubes around him, giving his teammate a look of consternation. Fireflight grinned and straightened. “That looks like my cue. That was really neat, thanks for letting me see it!”

With a cheery wave the young Aerialbot joined his fellow flyer, claiming both a cube and a seat right next to Slingshot, wings touching, before Sunstreaker could formulate a reply of any kind. Instead the golden twin stared after Fireflight in bemusement for a long moment, then back down at his sketch.

It was a good likeness, drawn up from stills and memories, but rough and unfinished. One of the buildings had more detail to it than the others and as he studied it he realized it was the same structure he’d first exhibited in, back when he’d started out his career. A touch of sentimentality, he mused, and turned to a clean page with a light huff.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
A few days later found Sunstreaker in one of his more pensive moods, and he’d escaped to the top of the mountain above the Ark. There was a plateau near the summit that was flat and big and relatively easy to get to, if one knew the route. It was also very high up, and provided a rather beautiful view of the surrounding scenery. Nothing would ever compare to seeing the sun set behind the Rust Sea, or the moonlight shining off a glistening Crystal City, or the lights and decorations and music of the Praxus Ice Festival, but despite Sunstreaker’s desperate dislike of Earth and all its... organic-ness there was something oddly splendid about it.

If there was one bot who could see the beauty even in something he hated it was Sunstreaker.

It was getting towards dusk and the sun was sinking towards the horizon, vague blues and pinks and oranges streaking the sky to indicate the impending sunset. He couldn’t see Portland from this side, so instead of being distracted by the glow of a city full of life and stories he sat back on his hands and simply watched the landscape change colors and shape as the light slowly dimmed and shadows danced.

It was maybe an hour later when he was interrupted by the sound of jets blasting behind him and a pair of pedes landing nearby on the plateau, and he turned to glare at the intruder, but Fireflight paid him little attention initially. He took in the view with an appreciative noise, hands on his hips.

“Now this is a good spot. Pretty scenery!”

“What do you want?” Sunstreaker asked, rather bluntly.

“To give you this!” Abruptly the young flyer’s attention was on him and Fireflight came and sat down next to Sunstreaker. He pulled something out of subspace and handed it to the yellow frontliner, who took it automatically and stared down at it.

‘It’ turned out to be ‘them’, and ‘them’ turned out to be a set of what Spike called seashells. These were large though, five heavy-set shells of varying kinds, but they looked so delicate against his large hands. Their spirals and spikes and curves and waves were quite aesthetically pleasing, and the colors were especially bright. Nigh on perfect specimens, if Sunstreaker had to guess. Still, he was not at all sure what to do with them now that he had them, and he looked up at Fireflight in confusion.

“I... thanks? I don’t know what they’re meant to be for, though.”

“Well, I thought you could draw them,” replied Fireflight happily, flicking his wings idly. “I mean, that sketch of Praxus you did the other day was incredible, and I know you didn’t use references for that. I’d love to see what you could do with a reference, so I’ve been trying to find you something pretty to draw, therefore, seashells. We came back from Thailand a couple of days ago, that’s where I found those.” He nodded to the shells in Sunstreaker’s hands.

“Oh. I see.” Sunstreaker sat and stared at them for another long minute, before movement out the corner of his optics caused him to look back up. Fireflight had a light frown on his face and his wings had dipped - the action that he’d noticed.

“Do you not like them?” Fireflight asked hesitantly.

“It’s not that, it’s just... I don’t normally do still life. I prefer actual life,” the golden twin returned, pursing his lips slightly. “Cityscapes, mechs, scenes, clubs, landscapes, that kind of thing.”

“Oh! Okay.” Fireflight perked up at that. “Good to know.” He stood up and brushed himself off a little. “In that case I’ll leave you to it. Skydive’s wondering where I am anyway. I’ll see you later!”

He boosted up, transformed and flew off before Sunstreaker could say anything in reply, and the frontliner looked back down at his hands where the seashells still lay. He might not want to draw the shells themselves, but the colors... he could work with the colors.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
Over the next few weeks, while there wasn’t any direct contact between them, Sunstreaker noticed that Fireflight would often do a fly-by greeting. Never more than once a day and generally it was only a, “hi Sunstreaker!” from across the room, but it was... odd.

Out of the blue, it seemed, the young flyer was just there, somewhere in Sunstreaker’s periphery. Why Fireflight had suddenly decided he wanted to make friends with one of the most volatile mechs in the entire Autobot roster Sunstreaker truly wasn’t sure, but after teasing him relentlessly about his winged shadow Sideswipe seemed nothing but supportive, more than aware how difficult it had been for his twin to make solid friends since they were first brought out of stasis.

That wasn’t to say Sunstreaker didn’t have any friends; Bluestreak was a constant and a weird comfort in their lives, having never been intimidated by either twin or their violent mood swings, Ratchet managed to keep a good handle on them and they went to him with a lot of stuff they would never have told anyone else, and the golden frontliner had found an odd kinship with Mirage that seemed to work for them both very well.

Still, there was a good reason most mechs at least kept their distance from Sunstreaker. Somehow, though, some occasionally forgot, and were starkly reminded when they riled Sunstreaker up, intentionally or not. The next victim to fall prey to the golden twin’s wrath was Tracks, and at first nobody could understand quite why or what Tracks had actually said to set Sunstreaker off.

“I just do _not_ understand it.” 

That was the first sentence that Sunstreaker paid any attention to, taking him out of his reading zone-out from the novel he was in the middle of. Normally he tended to ignore Tracks. While he and Mirage had both been Towers mechs back before the war started, Mirage had decided that to fight for what he wanted, for what he believed in, was a far more preferable alternative to what some of his fellow noblemechs tried, which was to either hide and try and wait the conflicts out or attempt to negotiate with the Decepticons. The spy had never heard from any of them again. Tracks, meanwhile, had joined the fight only because he was forced to, and had only joined the Autobots because the Decepticons were (apparently) a bunch of uncultured barbarians who didn’t know their Splitshine Polish from their Duranite Wax.

Not that most of the Autobots did either.

Still, the amount of bitching that Tracks did, even for one who kept as well as Sunstreaker, meant the golden twin had long since learned to just tune him out. Why he’d logged back into this particular conversation though was a mystery.

“He doesn’t even seem to do anything about it,” Tracks continued huffily. “The kid wasn’t even _sparked_ properly, he’s not a _real_ Cybertronian. None of them are.”

Oh.

Sunstreaker frowned. The Aerialbots were as real as any of them, and it had been Vector Sigma who had given them life. That, in Sunstreaker’s opinion, made them just as Cybertronian as the rest of them.

“They’re perfectly real, Tracks,” snapped back Hoist, unknowingly voicing Sunstreaker’s thoughts. “If being chosen by _Vector Sigma_ doesn’t qualify someone, I don’t know what does.”

“In your opinion, perhaps,” sniffed Tracks. “Anyway, my point is that Sunstreaker shouldn’t be allowing someone like that to fawn all over him so. It’s rather disgraceful, he deserves so much... better.”

“What, like you? Please. I think he’d rather bond to Megatron.” Grapple’s voice this time, and the sarcasm was dripping thickly off his words.

Not that they were wrong.

“Well certainly not that _pretender_ that keeps showing up like a bad energon goodie,” retorted Tracks angrily.

Thing was, even before Fireflight’s undue interest in him started, Sunstreaker genuinely liked the Aerialbots. They were all good-sparked mechs and put their all into every endeavour, and to hear them called anything less than the truth was making him mad. That it was Fireflight specifically being picked on just because he’d taken a shine to the golden twin...

“Far as I’m concerned,” concluded the noblemech, “Sunny should just tell the kid to shove it up his booster and never talk to him again.”

Sunstreaker abandoned his novel and was out of his chair with his hand around Tracks’ throat cables before anyone knew what was happening. Drawing himself up to his full height and lifting his hand above his head - forcing Tracks’ pedes to leave the floor - he let his plating fluff out in agitation and a snarl curled his lips.

“Call me Sunny again and I’ll rip your hand off and make you eat it,” he spat venomously. “Talk about Fireflight - _any_ of the Aerials - like that one more time and not even Ratchet will be able to fix you up right.” He lowered his hand until he and Tracks were almost nose to nose. “Do I make myself clear?”

Sunstreaker’s mild tone in the final question belied the fury in his optics and the danger screaming from his stance and other hand sporting a wristblade. Still, it was enough to make Tracks nod as vigorously as he could in Sunstreaker’s choking hold. The golden twin was going to hold Tracks there for a little longer but a delicate touch at his bladed arm distracted him, and he let go of the noblemech to face the new threat.

It turned out to be Fireflight himself, wings raised in cautious surrender and a slight frown playing on his lips. It didn’t look quite right on him. “It’s alright, Sunstreaker. It’s nothing we haven’t heard before.”

“It’s not alright,” Sunstreaker snapped, dismissing the Aerial and turning back to Tracks. “Some mechs need to learn their place and when to keep their unwanted opinions to themselves.” He started advancing on the now exceptionally nervous noblemech, but was stopped by Fireflight once more, bodily putting himself in between them.

“Sunstreaker, please. Stop. I don’t want to see you in the brig for something as petty as this,” Fireflight said quietly.

To Sunstreaker’s own surprise he did. He eyed the Aerialbot for several long moments, then slowly straightened up. He remained tense and anger was visible in every line of his frame, but he folded his blade away back into his armor and took a couple of steps back. He could feel the surprise rippling around the room that the frontliner hadn’t just torn Fireflight apart for standing in between him and his prey, and frankly _he_ wasn’t all that sure why he was stopping either, but he did. As soon as feeling came back into his limbs as his intakes came under control he turned and bolted out of the rec room, not saying a word to anyone.

He ran through the corridors and blasted out of the Ark in alt mode, completely disregarding Trailbreaker and Pipes on guard duty at the entrance and ignoring the insistent communication pings from Prowl.

He needed out.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
“Can I watch?”

Once again Sunstreaker was dragged out of his thoughts by the chipper voice of his new-found shadow. It had been several months since Fireflight’s mysterious sudden interest in him, but it hadn’t waned. The young flyer made it a point to at least say ‘hi’ once a day if the Aerialbots were around, and coming back from missions or scouts across the globe he would always have something new for Sunstreaker to add to his collection of ‘pretty things from Fireflight’.

Sideswipe laughed when he realized why one of the shelves in their shared suite was steadily getting full of all sorts of random bits and bobs and jokingly suggested they were all courting gifts.

A jest, of course, but Sunstreaker hadn’t been able to delete the thought from his processors ever since Sideswipe said it. It niggled at him vaguely, easily swept aside when on duty or in battle, but always making a peripheral appearance during downtime and quiet moments.

What was even more surprising was that if true, Sunstreaker honestly wasn’t sure he’d say ‘no thanks’. Others had tried before, both courting and for one-night stands, but the twins had rejected every single attempt. None of them had felt right, and oftentimes the ones who’d tried to berth or court one of the twins had been bad-mouthing the other in some way. Some were very subtle about it, others very blatant. Either way, they were shot down instantly and with no remorse.

Still, maybe the gifts were just Fireflight’s way of making friends. Sunstreaker looked back at the young flyer who was standing eagerly nearby. They were back on the mountain ledge again, Sunstreaker with a canvas laid out in front of him and a small set of paint pots surrounding his knees.

“Watch?”

“Yeah! I’d like to watch you paint,” Fireflight clarified happily. “Mirage was kind enough to show me some stills of your works back on Cybertron, they were stunning! I’d love to watch your process.”

“Oh.” It had been a long time since Sunstreaker had let anyone other than Sideswipe watch him paint. “I... alright. But only,” he added with a pointed digit at Fireflight, “if you’re quiet. I can’t work with bots chattering my audials off or constant fidgeting.”

Fireflight nodded rapidly in acquiescence, then cheered quietly as he sat down just behind the frontliner to get a clear view. “I can do that!”

Turning back around Sunstreaker dipped back into his paints and carefully continued from where he’d left off. He wasn’t expecting Fireflight to last all that long, but as Sunstreaker could barely even hear the other mech’s intakes it didn’t take at all long to get back into his zone and forget entirely that the young flyer was even there. His focus instead went into the painting.

It was a scene from one of Sunstreaker’s memory files, modified a little bit but still instantly recognizable as a shot of the Wind Festival of Crystal City in mid-flow. It was full of life and color and glow as decorations clearly swung in the breeze, families corralled runaway younglings, couples and trines shared treats and stories, vendors hawked their wares to passing bots and a couple of Enforcers could be seen in the background patrolling, all thronging through the main high street of the City’s central plaza, surrounded by decadent ornamentation and spiralling crystalline buildings. It was a beautifully busy scene and one that made Sunstreaker’s spark ache for home as he painted.

Still, Sunstreaker carried on until the light of the sun began to fade and he started to struggle to see what colors he needed. He stopped when it became too much, blinking himself out of his daze and stretching upwards with a long, low groan of relief only given when moving after a long period of inactivity.

“It’s beautiful,” breathed Fireflight from behind him, almost making him jump. The frontliner had totally blanked that the flyer was still there. Fireflight leaned forwards to better examine the painting, bright optics dancing across the canvas. “Where is that?”

Conscious of Fireflight’s helm practically on his shoulder, Sunstreaker shifted a little. “Crystal City. One of the biggest festivals in the Cybertronian calendar. It was right up there with the Ice Festival of Praxus and the Day of Primus celebrations in Iacon.”

“Looks incredible.” Fireflight leaned back a little, but must have seen something in Sunstreaker’s expression because his wings abruptly pulled down and he frowned. “But it’s making you sad. Why are you painting something that makes you sad? Surely it should make you happy instead?”

“Because art isn’t about making people happy, it’s about depicting emotion,” replied Sunstreaker almost exasperatedly. Instantly he realized what he’d said, and looked away, clamming up. “Forget it.”

“No, please tell me,” said Fireflight, hesitatingly reaching out and touching his digits to Sunstreaker’s forearm. “I’d like to understand.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s something you do. I want to know more.”

“But _why?_ ” Sunstreaker whipped round then, shrugging off Fireflight’s touch and standing up, taking a few paces back. His expression was confused, angry, almost pleading. “Why are you doing this? Why are you suddenly so up in everything I’m doing? Why are you giving me all these gifts? What is the _point_ in this, Fireflight? Eight months ago you had never even looked at me twice. What do you _want_?”

“I did,” Fireflight insisted quietly. “You’re really pretty, and I like pretty things. You just seemed... unreachable. So I... watched instead. Learned a lot from that. I know you like cadmium in your energon, that you prefer high-grade treated with xenon and tungsten shavings. I know you’re about as smart as most of our science teams but you don’t like showing it. I know you favor your left hand over your right, you never trained in any martial art but you’re a master at four different weapon types and you really like basking in sunlight when you can get the time alone.”

Sunstreaker was taken aback. Most of that was stuff he was sure only Sideswipe knew about. Had Fireflight really learned all that just by _watching_?

“I approached you,” continued the Aerial, lifting his wings out, “because Air Raid had gotten sick of me just watching and dared me to actually do something about it. See if you were really as nice as I thought you were.” He smiled hesitantly. “Turns out you are.”

Sunstreaker stared for several moments, unconsciously losing tension throughout his frame. He’d been called a lot of things over his life, ‘nice’ being a rare one, and he was having trouble reconciling the fact that the Aerial had been watching him that closely that he’d picked up some of Sunstreaker’s more guarded habits.

“There has to be more to it than just the fact you thought I was pretty,” Sunstreaker eventually got out. “Anyone with optics can see _that_.”

“Well, yeah.” Fireflight’s wings flexed and relaxed, the flyer equivalent of a shrug. “When we first came online a lot of mechs told us to stay away from you and Sideswipe, that you were really erratic and unstable, that you would hurt us if we even looked at you wrong, that kind of thing. But you didn’t seem that way to us. We were intrigued, so we sort of stepped back to see what kind of mechs you really were. And we liked what we saw.” Fireflight got up and stretched. “That’s all there really is to it. It’s not complicated, and we’re not looking for anything to use against you.” He smiled brightly. “Anyway, thanks for letting me watch you paint, you really do have an amazing talent!”

With that he lifted into the air, transformed and was gone. The golden twin stared after Fireflight with wide optics for a couple of minutes, and then dropped them down to his painting. It was still wet, gleaming in the setting sunlight, but not yet done. It’d take another good couple of days before he was even close to satisfied with it. He slowly leaned down and gathered up his paints and brushes, keeping the painting for last. Clutching it gingerly to avoid smudging anything he began his descent down the mountain, processors whirling.

Fireflight still hadn’t really answered the question of why him. He’d said a lot, but honestly it wasn’t anything that Sunstreaker couldn’t have probably sussed out himself, so in the end the only thing Sunstreaker had gathered was that the Aerialbots liked him and his twin and that the only reason Fireflight had actually talked to him the first time was because of a dare.

Primus, was he really so damn unapproachable that someone had to be dared before they’d do it?

Frustrated and a little confused about the whole thing he kicked at the wall just inside the Ark, ignoring Bumblebee asking if he was alright and making a beeline straight for his and Sideswipe’s quarters. Once inside he carefully put his painting on the empty drying rack adorning one corner of their room and then flopped onto the berth face-first. He didn’t move until he heard Sideswipe enter, the chime of a correctly entered code and gentle swish of a sliding door announcing his presence. Sunstreaker could feel the thread of amusement when Sideswipe noticed him sprawled out across most of their berth and felt the dip of the mattress as the red mech sat next to him.

“Well this is unusual,” Sideswipe teased. “What’s got your wires in a bunch?”

Sunstreaker’s reply was inaudible into the berth and Sideswipe just laughed. The golden twin raised his head and glared. “I said,” he repeated more forcefully, “I don’t understand others.”

“Yeah? That’s nothing new, Sunshine.” Sideswipe felt along the bond and Sunstreaker let him, burying his face back into the berth. As soon as he found what he was looking for he started chuckling, to his twin’s consternation. “Primus, Sunny, are you _serious_?”

“Yes!” Sunstreaker’s words were again muffled into the berth, but actually audible this time. “Who the frag actually _wants_ to spend time with me? I’m Unicron incarnate.”

“I think you’ll find that _we’re_ Unicron incarnate,” retorted Sideswipe primly, then promptly started laughing again. “And honestly, if you can’t figure that out I worry for your processors brother dearest.”

“Frag off.”

“So you’re telling me that Sunstreaker, one of the two Kaon Arena Princes and feared Autobot frontliner both on and off the battlefield, can’t handle presents from a mech who wants to make friends?”

“Why,” growled Sunstreaker, “did Primus ever curse me to have you as a twin?”

“You love me and you know it.” Sideswipe cackled and patted his brother’s helm patronizingly. “Just roll with it, Sunny. That’s all you gotta do.”

Sunstreaker shoved his twin unceremoniously off the berth to a squawk of protest. “Easy for you to say.”  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
In the end, however, that was exactly what Sunstreaker did.

Once he managed to accept that Fireflight seemed to just want to make friends and this was his odd way of doing so, the flyer became a kind of fixed point as the months went on. He was almost guaranteed to bring Sunstreaker something back if the Aerialbots were sent out somewhere around the globe they’d never been before, no matter how small, and the shelf in the twins’ room was very slowly filling up with all kinds of shiny little trinkets. Most of it was artistic or craft-based; a small Peranakan bowl, hand-crafted and decorated in Sunstreaker’s colors sat almost pride of place, inside which were some carved stones and polished fossils. Small statuettes ranging from a lion to a dragon guarded either side and even a little watercolor of the galaxy Earth called home (the “Milky Way” apparently - humans were so _weird_ ) leaned against the back wall.

Sideswipe loved it when Sunstreaker added something else to the collection, relentless teasing and variations on him being totally thick following the golden twin around for most of the day. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he wasn’t _bonded_ to his tormenter, and regardless of how much of a slag Sideswipe was being Sunstreaker didn’t actually like slamming the door to his side of the bond closed. So it was either put up with the teasing or spend the day in uncomfortable silence.

He chose the mocking, and if that didn’t show how much of a masochist he was then Sunstreaker didn’t know what did.

Still, he found he didn’t mind Fireflight being around. He never stayed past his welcome, apparently very perceptive as to when Sunstreaker was getting irritable, and he could be perfectly quiet when requested. Most of the time though he enjoyed chattering away about whatever happened to be holding his interest that week, and unlike Bluestreak actually left time to answer between his questions. Sunstreaker normally didn’t say too much, he found that by letting Fireflight talk his way through all the ideas and potential answers he had the young flyer could often come up with the correct - or at least prevailing - solution on his own. Fireflight was about as flighty as his name suggested as his interests and latest entertainments were about as changeable as Earth’s Primus-damned weather.

What fragging back-water planet had fragging storms large and powerful enough to sweep even fragging Omega Supreme off his pedes?

Still, there were far more pleasant days than stormy ones around the part of the world they were in, and for that Sunstreaker was thankful. He couldn’t deal with the mud and dust and slime and general filthiness of Earth when the weather was anything less than a cloudless azure-blue sky and bright sunshine. Those were the best days to get out of the Ark, and Fireflight apparently thought the same.

Sunstreaker had the whole day off and had planned on spending some of it in the training room. Ironhide had set up a new sim that the golden twin really wanted to try along with some freshly programmed drones, but he’d barely gotten to the training room doors when Fireflight came barrelling around the corner, wings wide and optics bright.

“Hey Sunstreaker! There you are!”

Sunstreaker automatically put his hands up as simultaneously a kind of barrier between them and a ‘stop’ motion as Fireflight skidded to a halt in front of him. “I don’t know whether my response should be ‘where’s the fire’ or ‘I didn’t do it’,” he said drolly.

“Well of course _you_ didn’t do it,” replied Fireflight dismissively, waving away the imaginary concern, “it was probably ‘Raid or Sides. Anyway, I was hoping to catch you before you went into training, or I wouldn’t see you for hours and by then it’d be too late.”

“For what?”

“This!” Fireflight held out a small piece of paper, and Sunstreaker took it dubiously. “It’s an outdoor art festival, in one of the parks just outside the city. Lots of room, lots of artists and artisans and supplies and workshops and I thought you’d wanna go! It’s only on today and tomorrow, and you’re on patrol with Hound tomorrow, so...”

Sure enough, the paper was a large (at least, by human standards) poster proclaiming exactly what Fireflight said, set for the weekend only. A quick check of his chronometer had Sunstreaker confirming that it was still early in the morning, so he’d have plenty of time to get there before the festival opened, but not enough if he went and did the training first. He hesitated, but eventually looked up at Fireflight and nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I would.”

“Awesome!” Fireflight rocked back on his heels and beamed. “I was hoping I could come with you. You could teach me all kinds of things about different mediums and styles and whatnot. I’d love to see how your work differs from the humans’ stuff.”

Sunstreaker blinked, almost taking a step back from the sheer enthusiasm radiating from the flyer in front of him. There was silence for a moment, and then Sunstreaker nodded awkwardly. “Okay? I mean, you might not find it’s to your liking...”

“I’ll find something, don’t worry,” Fireflight chirped. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Abandoning his plans for spending half the day in a training sim Sunstreaker followed a bouncing Fireflight through the halls of the base, pausing only long enough to ping Prowl as to where they were going, and soon enough an F-4 Phantom and a Lamborghini Countach were hurtling towards the city.

By virtue of being a jet, Fireflight was at the festival entrance and waiting by the time Sunstreaker pulled up twenty minutes later. Initially the flyer had tried to stay above Sunstreaker, but even at the golden twin’s fastest pace - well past what the actual Earth model of Countach could pull off - the risk of Fireflight stalling due to slow speeds was too great. They’d split up a couple of minutes into the journey and once he’d found the park Fireflight was able to direct Sunstreaker to it with no problems.

Having brought enough of the local currency with them to pay their way in like everyone else, the two Autobots were surprised but pleased when the curator handing out tickets insisted that there was no charge for them and they should enjoy themselves for as long as they wanted. Fireflight and Sunstreaker exchanged glances but the frontliner in particular wasn’t about to question it so they headed into the park itself.

As they were pretty early there were still several artists and vendors getting set up; easels, crafting benches, wheels, kits, paints, clay, lights and example works were being assembled and put out and several of the artisans greeted Fireflight and Sunstreaker enthusiastically as they strolled past. Eventually a glassblower’s stand and workshop caught Sunstreaker’s optics, and he stopped to have a closer look.

Watching for a moment he asked a little hesitantly, “so, you don’t use crystal?”

One of the glass workers looked up, blinked at their surprise guest, then grinned. “No, not crystal.”

“Silicates?”

“Super-heated, yeah. Don’t you guys use it?” The worker gestured to the windshield across Sunstreaker’s front, and the warrior glanced down at it before settling properly on the ground in front of the stand.

“Not until we got here. We use silicates but not in the same way, and that’s only on frames. It’s... created differently. All the transparency we need for windows in buildings and structures are from either clear crystals or treated ceramics.”

Fireflight, apparently taking his cues from Sunstreaker, also perched himself comfortably in front of the stand and added, “from what I can tell glass isn’t the best material for Cybertronian forms. Doesn’t hold up well against the pressure of our protoform needs or stabilizing and strengthening our armor.”

“I can imagine,” the worker said with a laugh. “So, you just here for a look around?”

“Pretty much.” Fireflight thumbed at Sunstreaker. “Sunstreaker’s our resident artist, and he’s really really good at what he does. I found the flyer for this place and he said he’d come.”

“What sort of art?” The worker looked intrigued, and Sunstreaker could feel a line of tension in his back ease a little.

“I’ve dabbled in most forms, but I’m best as a painter,” the frontliner admitted. “Both canvas and paint jobs. I’ve done sculpting, modding, modeling, design, framework... there’s little I hadn’t had a go at, until I got here. This is new to me.” Sunstreaker gestured at the workshop where a young female was heating up more glass for rendering. “It looks delicate.”

“It’s more durable than you’d think, especially when heated like this, but you’re right, it is pretty delicate work. The finished pieces especially.” The man hesitated, eyeing the two mechs. “I’d offer for you to have a go, but I don’t know how well you’d be able to use our tools.”

Sunstreaker smiled slightly at the offer but shook his helm. “Not that well, probably. I don’t want to break your instruments. I’d like to watch, though.”

“Absolutely!” The man looked thrilled, and almost immediately began an impromptu lesson on glassblowing, complete with demonstrations.

Sunstreaker and Fireflight stayed for just over an hour, watching and questioning, and the golden warrior was getting more animated as time went on. It felt good to be around peers and fellow artisans who were just as enthusiastic about their work as Sunstreaker was, though he kept his love for his craft much closer to himself nowadays.

Eventually they left, but not without Sunstreaker slipping one of the larger glass orbs colored inside to look like a galaxy into subspace and handing the glassblower the money. From there the two of them continued, staying more with the artisanal humans who were doing things not seen on Cybertron like leatherworking, ironmongery, silversmithing and resin art. Neither mech especially liked to think about where the leather came from and how they got it, but the process was fascinating enough and the items that came out as a result were at least aesthetically pleasing, if not exactly functional for Cybertronians.

As the day wore on Sunstreaker felt more and more at ease among these particular humans, the care and pride in their work clear as day, and it was nice to talk to beings who understood the process and never questioned inspiration, who were full of helpful tips and tricks and advice and willing to learn from him in return, who didn’t deride him on his in-grained need to look perfect at any given time. He and Fireflight had sat for a couple of portrait sketches and paintings, and the flyer had been delighted when a caricaturist offered him the piece they’d done of him free of charge, all stretched and warped and utterly ridiculous. He giggled whenever he looked at it, and Sunstreaker shook his helm a little bit each and every time; he personally wasn’t a fan of the style, but sometimes it was the little things.

They’d simply watched for a while too, about halfway through the day. A deserted mound overlooking the main plaza of the festival provided a good spot for both mechs to sit comfortably, and while they drank a small cube of mid-grade each they took the time to observe the bustle around them. However alien this whole planet and its native population was, there was something comfortingly familiar about the hubbub and commerce - at least for Sunstreaker - and he found himself wondering if Cybertron would ever recover enough that sights like this would be the norm across the planet again. The golden twin glanced at Fireflight, who was eyeing everything avidly with excitedly raised wings, and sort of hoped it would be. The Aerialbots had never seen Cybertron as it had been in the Golden Age, and memory files could never do it justice.

By the time the festival was winding down in the later hours of the afternoon both Sunstreaker and Fireflight had accumulated a fair number of items and pictures. Some of it was simply for display, but others, like the stencils Sunstreaker bought off an older woman whose geometric and curving designs he could readily admit he found beautiful, would be used for his own works or his own detailing. Sunstreaker had also made several contacts, some of whom he was interested in learning more about what they did and others who promised to craft him things he might need to continue his own works if he couldn’t find anything commercially available that would suit his different needs.

All in all, Sunstreaker mused as they departed the festival, it had been a productive and interesting day. Most importantly, however, it had been _fun_. Fireflight was gushing excitedly about all they’d seen and done as they began to walk back towards the Ark, how fascinating it all was and how accommodating everyone had been. And Sunstreaker couldn’t help but agree. The humans had been welcoming and hospitable and more than happy to adjust to the two Autobots meandering through their midst. It was at odds with what he’d decided about Spike, Sparkplug, Chip and Carly, but then he didn’t have anything in common with any of them and thus hadn’t bothered to get to know them any further. Chip was the only one who kind of approached him in any way, and even he was wary. But here, Sunstreaker felt right.

“I’ll meet you back at the Ark?” Fireflight asked, interrupting Sunstreaker’s thoughts. The frontliner’s optics came up and Fireflight grinned. “It’s gonna take us forever if we walk, and I’d like to stretch my wings a little.”

“Oh, sure.” Sunstreaker tipped his helm up to the sky briefly. “Go ahead.”

The Aerialbot waved, flew up, transformed and streaked off across the sky. Sunstreaker watched him go, a quiet muse of jealousy for his own inability to fly flashing through him, before folding into his own alt mode and racing off.

His journey back was slightly slower than the morning’s, mostly because Sunstreaker was relaxed and content and didn’t really want to go back to the stiff barbs and veiled comments that were always just around the corner in the Ark. He must have been broadcasting his complacency because Sideswipe nudged into their bond unobtrusively to see why. When all he saw was an empty road and the feeling of chilly evening air whipping past his plating he pouted slightly.

: _What’s got you in such a good mood?_ :

: _Artists event,_ : replied Sunstreaker, little flashes of his experience and purchases coming across to his twin.

: _You look like you had fun._ : There was a few seconds of silence, and then delighted amusement .: _Wait, is that Fireflight? You went to an artists convention with_ Fireflight?:

: _He’s the one who gave me the flyer about it. Asked to come with to see what it was all about._ :

: _Yeah-huh, sure. That’s exactly why. No other reason, of course._ :

: _What is wrong with you?_ : Sunstreaker demanded.

: _I think the better question is what’s wrong with you,_ : was Sideswipe’s mocking reply. Sunstreaker growled in exasperation and slammed the bond shut on his twin.

Honestly.

Despite his slower speeds and enjoyment of the evening sunshine on his plating it didn’t take Sunstreaker long to get back to the Ark. About forty minutes later he was approaching the entrance, but he transformed before he reached it as the roar of jet engines passed him by overhead. Fireflight came down into a graceful root-mode landing with a wide smile as soon as he saw Sunstreaker, and they wandered back into the shadow of their ship. 

Warpath and Beachcomber were on the door when the doors came into view. Warpath greeted them with his usual boisterous attitude, but Beachcomber simply waved at them lazily from one wall.

“You mechs look like you’ve had a groovy day,” he observed serenely. “Good date?”

Sunstreaker hummed noncommittally, but then Beachcomber’s words registered and his helm shot up to stare at the minibot. “Good _what_?”

“Date,” Beacomber repeated easily, “Was it not?”

Abruptly Sunstreaker could feel a flush run through his systems and he ruthlessly squashed it down, embarrassment and shock tumbling through him in equal measure. He was suddenly so much more aware of the young flyer standing just behind him. “Not that it’s any of your fragging business,” he snapped icily at Beachcomber, who raised his hands hurriedly in surrender, “but it was a _festival._ ” 

He was about to add something else when a gentle hand on his shoulder made him clam up almost instantly. He only chanced a glance at Fireflight, who was wearing a soft smile and had his wings canted at an odd angle that Sunstreaker hadn’t seen before, and then ex-vented sharply. The Aerial led the way inside and Sunstreaker could _feel_ the stares of both Warpath and Beachcomber drilling holes into his armor. He fought the urge to turn around and make them _stop._

Neither mech spoke a word as they made their way through the corridors, and it wasn’t until Fireflight stopped them outside the twins’ quarters that Sunstreaker realized where they actually were. He punched his door code in and it swished open to grant him entry, but Sunstreaker hesitated before turning around to flyer slowly.

“Thanks. For telling me about the festival. It was... nice to let go for a while.”

“You’re welcome!” Fireflight replied cheerfully. “I’m glad you let me tag along, it was great to see you in your element. I’ll let you go, I’ve got a lot of stuff to show the others and they’ve been pestering me since we left the park. I’ll catch you later!”

The Aerial was off down the corridor humming happily to himself before Sunstreaker could formulate any kind of response, but then, he thought as the door slid closed behind him, what would he have said?

Sideswipe’s words at the beginning of this whole thing came back to him, and he studied the shelf of trinkets bemusedly for a moment. Thing was, Beachcomber wasn’t exactly wrong. If they had been back on Cybertron and this had been the Golden Age, giving little, thoughtful gifts that showed you at least knew the mech could absolutely be considered part of a courting, and if the festival had been in one of the big cities with only the two of them going then it would absolutely be classed as a date.

But they weren’t on Cybertron and the Aerialbots had never grown up with the intrinsic knowledge of what most courting rituals entailed, which begged the question of whether or not Fireflight knew what he was doing. Sunstreaker slowly started to unload his subspace and put away the items he’d bought - displays on the shelf, tools and equipment in his storage cupboards and contacts in his databanks, along with names and professions.

It wasn’t until the last name went into his contacts list that the thought he was even considering any of this struck him hard enough that he abruptly sat down on the berth. The twins had rejected every single offer of courting and most interfacing requests since the war started, so why was this any different? He was tempted to get up and march right over to the Aerialbots’ suite, demand to know if Fireflight knew what he was implying and reject it like all the others, but he dismissed that thought as soon as it appeared.

“Took you long enough, Primus.”

Sideswipe’s voice from their doorway was beyond amused, and Sunstreaker’s only response was a middle digit. “I mean, he’s only been trying to get your attention for the last year and a half,” he continued sagely. “You are hopeless, you know that right?”

“I didn’t ask your opinion.”

“I’m your twin, you’re going to get my opinion whether you want it or not.”

Sunstreaker rolled his optics irritably and flopped backwards onto the berth. Sideswipe joined him almost immediately, settling right next to him with most of their sides pressing together. Incrementally Sunstreaker relaxed as the heat from a second chassis washed over him and eventually the golden twin sighed.

“Has he really, though?”

“If you don’t think he doesn’t know what he’s been doing you’re glitched. He’s got such a massive crush on you, I can’t believe you haven’t noticed.” Sideswipe nudged Sunstreaker lightly. “So. Knowing that - finally - what are you gonna do about it?”

“How is this any different to anyone else?” Sunstreaker threw his arms above his head and left them there, laid out on the berth. “I always thought if we wanted partners, we’d have the same one, but...”

“Not necessarily.” Sideswipe shrugged. “I mean, it’s far more likely than not, but it’s entirely possible we’ll pick different mechs.”

: _I don’t want it to get between us,_ : Sunstreaker said plaintively, unable to get the words past his vocalizer. Some things were far easier in the bond. : _I feel like this is something we should do together._ :

: _Ahh, Sunshine._ : Sideswipe turned and gathered his twin into an embrace. : _I hate to break it to you, but you’re never getting rid of me no matter how hard you try._ : There was a pause, and then Sideswipe’s voice sounded again, a little hesitant. : _You’re actually considering accepting Fireflight’s attempts, aren’t you?_ :

: _....Yeah. And I don’t know why. I never have before, what’s so special about Fireflight?_ :

: _Maybe that’s what you should find out. I mean, that’s all courting is, it’s not like it’s a bonding declaration._ :

Sunstreaker made a noise into Sideswipe’s shoulder, but the red frontliner couldn’t tell whether it was one of agreement or disagreement. Either way, at least his brother had finally twigged.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
It took a long time, but eventually Sideswipe did manage to convince Sunstreaker that accepting the courting of a mech who wasn’t trying to get them both was okay, that they could both have separate dates.

Sideswipe couldn’t fault Sunstreaker for his indecision though; they had done literally everything together since they were sparklings, and despite appearances Sunstreaker was infinitely the more insecure of the two of them. They’d relied on each other for everything their entire lives, so doing something like this without the other was a big step for them both. 

It would make things so much easier if they could choose a single mech who wanted them both, because even as separate as they were the twins required relatively regular spark merges to keep their resonances in synchronization and living more independent lives with different partners would make it more difficult, but more often than not their reputations preceded them and either mechs wanted nothing to do with the twins or they were only after one.

Usually Sideswipe.

Still, once he accepted that, as much as he could, Sunstreaker spent a good long while thinking of what he wanted to do about Fireflight. The answer should have been simple enough, but that was just it; for some reason it wasn’t. Sunstreaker found he liked Fireflight’s presence. The young mech wasn’t overly clingy and very empathetic, he knew when and how to just be quiet and still as much as he was loud and boisterous as the rest of his teammates, he appreciated what Sunstreaker did beyond the fights and the pranks, he was highly observant (if his notations of some of Sunstreaker’s more private habits was any indication), but most of all he wasn’t _scared_ of Sunstreaker. He wasn’t afraid to approach him, or touch him, or bring him back down. And that was something Sunstreaker appreciated immensely. The only other mech who did that was Ratchet, but Ratchet was a whole different ball game and the twins held their loyalties to him for different reasons.

Thus it was about two months after their not-date at the festival that Sunstreaker finished a project of his that he was actually pretty pleased with. He’d started it a little over 4 weeks previously, working on it between raids, training and injury, and when he finally put his brush down, deeming it complete, Sideswipe had stared at it for a good long while and then told him it was one of his best works since they came to Earth, pride easily discernible from the bond.

It spent the next couple of days on the drying rack before going into storage in Sunstreaker’s subspace. It wasn’t a large enough painting that it wouldn’t fit, but it was big enough that it took up most of the room, and Sunstreaker wanted it with him because to the Pit with anyone who thought he’d do this kind of thing in front of everybody else.

Even after it was dry though it was another week before an opportunity came up. Sunstreaker figured there’d be a chance sometime in the near future and therefore wasn’t going out of his way to deliberately get Fireflight alone. The next time they were together however was more of a chance meeting than anything else. Having a day off from duties and nothing else to do the frontliner had gone for a drive, flying down the highway heading south at speeds well above the limit and relishing the feel of air rushing past his alt mode and solid ground under his tires. Eventually he’d stopped about two hours from the Ark, pulling off the highway and into a nearby town, just outside of which he knew was an overlook to a small but spectacular view over a ravine and large forested area. As long as he didn’t have to go _in_ the forest he was perfectly happy admiring the view it made instead.

Unlike Hound and Trailbreaker he actually _enjoyed_ having a paintjob by the end of the day.

Still, he was happy to switch into a lower-power state in his alt mode, low on his wheels and the hot metal of his chassis pinging and creaking in the sun, and just idle for a while until he had to drive back.

Being so far away from the Ark though he didn’t expect to be hailed over comms about forty minutes later, Fireflight’s voice chirping at him happily.

- _Sunstreaker, hey! Didn’t know you were this far out._ -

A quick scan showed he wasn’t alone, and his gestalt were flying with him almost wing to wing. The frontliner pinged back an acknowledgement and his own greeting, watching the five of them streak across the sky overhead. They weren’t in patrol formation, no one had warned the Autobots that Superion would be making any appearances and from the tilting of wings and occasional rolling the five of them were simply out for a fly for the heck of it. It probably took them a lot less time to reach the same ravine, Sunstreaker mused.

Assuming it was just a fly-by greeting like normal he settled back onto his wheels again, only to be disturbed again ten minutes later with the roar of boosters bringing a single flyer into a landing next to him. This one was much less graceful as Fireflight tripped a little as soon as his pedes hit the ground, but he caught himself with a rueful laugh and sheepish grin. Sunstreaker rolled his optics and transformed himself, folding his arms across his chestplates and eyeing Fireflight.

“How come you’re not staying with your gestalt? You don’t normally get to just fly like that.”

“Well true, but I get to spend less time with you and they don’t mind, really,” Fireflight replied, gesturing upwards vaguely. “Unless I’m bothering you. I can go if you want me to. It’s just been awhile since we hung out.”

Sunstreaker pointed an accusatory digit at Fireflight. “Since when have you asked permission to hang around with me?” The amusement in his tone belied his gesture though, and he straightened almost immediately afterwards. “Actually, that you’re here is good. I have something for you.”

Fireflight perked up, wings rising. “You do?” He bounced a little on his pedes. “Now?”

“Yeah. Bots are nosy fragafts and I already get enough slag around the Ark.” Sunstreaker very carefully withdrew the painting from his subspace, inspected it briefly for any damage, and held it out once he was satisfied.

In the end he’d decided on a composition piece, one that combined Cybertron’s ‘City of Flyers’, Vos, and the Aerialbots as he’d seen them several months earlier, in the air around the Ark just playing. He’d spent a lot of time studying them as they flew, and was fairly sure he’d got the right wing language across, in Silverbolt’s amused exasperation, Slingshot’s determination in chasing after a thoroughly unrepentant Air Raid, Skydive in root mode instead of alt mode and watching with a fond smile and Fireflight going in circles around them all, wings canted joyfully. The cityscape underneath them was not Portland like it had been then, though. Instead it was Vos, in all it’s glory from what Sunstreaker remembered and had stills of in his files. The metropolis had been built for and around those with flight-capable frames, and as much as the rest of Cybertron would have worked there was something right about using Vos. It would likely have been where they would have been sparked had they been alive during the Golden Age, and because of how the city was built Sunstreaker had actually had fun with the lighting and sky, as that was where a lot of Vos stayed. Skyways there had been literal sky ways, and just as there was on the ground the air had lights, signage and decorations, all of which he’d included and had no regrets about.

All in all he was proud of it, and some part of him hoped that Vos was still standing and it would look like that painting again. Still, there was a kind of edge to his demeanor as he held the painting out, not saying anything more.

Fireflight took the painting carefully, just holding the very edges of it gently. His optics widened slightly as he took the landscape in, before his expression turned into one of delight and happiness. “Wow Sunstreaker, this is amazing! It’s really beautiful and look at us, you got us just right. This is Cybertron right? It’s almost like I’ve been there. Where is it? Oh wait, is this Vos? It is, isn’t it, with all the towers and skydecks, and you’re giving it to me?” Fireflight looked up at the yellow mech, a huge smile breaking across his face before bouncing across the distance between them to throw his arms, carefully, around Sunstreaker. “ _Thank you!_ ”

The initial instinct to shove the unfamiliar arms around him off and away rose up and died so quickly Sunstreaker was honestly a little surprised he’d even registered it. Instead he stood still for several seconds before slowly returning the hug, not quite sure what else to do. When Fireflight eventually broke away Sunstreaker hunched his shoulders a little and dipped his helm.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured. “Keep it close though, I don’t want everyone clamoring for something just because I did this one for you, yeah?” The golden frontliner hesitated, then added, “actually, I had something else I wanted to ask you about.”

“Of course,” Fireflight agreed, looking back down at the painting with a smile. “I’m going to hang it in my room. Or, well, maybe I should ask someone else to in case I break something, but it’s going in my room for sure!” Fireflight carefully tucked the painting away into his subspace before giving all of his attention back to Sunstreaker. “You can ask me anything.”

Sunstreaker placed one of his hands on a hip, catching Fireflight’s optics and tilting his head. “Are you aware you’ve been courting me?” he asked, bluntly. “Because I can’t tell and it’s been driving me around the bend.”

Fireflight expression turned more serious but the wings stayed up, happy and twitching. “I didn’t know if I was doing it right cause you didn’t seem to notice but you let me spend time with you and came with me to the festival, so I hoped maybe you did. Is that ok? Because I’d really like it to be.”

“I...” Despite knowing what Fireflight’s answer most likely would have been, it still threw Sunstreaker for a bit of a loop to hear it confirmed. That, however, didn’t change his answer. “Yes,” he said eventually. “If you’re following ‘procedure’-” he air-quoted around his words, “-then if the mech you’re courting gives you something back that they hold value over it’s an acceptance.” He nodded at Fireflight. “That... that was mine.”

The smile that Fireflight gave Sunstreaker was like looking into the sun it was so bright. “That really means a lot to me. Thank you and I’m so happy that you’ll let me show you that you’re worth it. I’d really like to hug you again, but I know I was pushing my luck before.”

Sunstreaker shook his head slightly. “I wasn’t ready for it before. I am now. If you want...” he trailed off and lifted his hands from where they’d fallen at his sides.

Fireflight’s smile was softer this time and he didn’t throw himself at Sunstreaker. Instead he wrapped his arms around Sunstreaker’s waist, pressing his hands to the back of his shoulder and tucking his face in between Sunstreaker’s helm and pauldron and vented out a contented little noise. More confident this time Sunstreaker’s own arms closed around the Aerial, and he decided he quite liked the feel of Fireflight’s systems humming gently against his own. They resonated differently to Sideswipe’s, but it was still comfortable, at least. One digit trailed absently across the corner of a wing.

“You’re the first one I’ve ever said yes to, you know,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t sure I was going to, Sides and I do everything together, but not this. Not this time, I don’t think.”

Fireflight’s wings shivered under the touch. “Don’t get me wrong, I like Sideswipe and all, but not like I _like_ you and anyway, it wouldn’t be fair. Not when I know someone else likes Sideswipe,” Fireflight replied, voice quieter than usual but still full of joy.

“Makes a change,” Sunstreaker murmured, then stilled and his optics widened a little as the rest of Fireflight’s words registered. He pulled back slightly, the beginnings of a mischievous look on his face showing, and he settled a hand in the small of Fireflight’s back. “Oh, well now you have to tell me who. He’s been tormenting me endlessly about you, I need some payback.”

Fireflight grinned. “Endlessly?”

Sunstreaker smacked him lightly. “I’m not used to subtle, I don’t do subtle. That’s Sides’ department. So yeah, endlessly. Now spill.”

“You promise you won’t tell anyone else? He’ll kick my tailfins for saying,” Fireflight asked, checking Sunstreaker’s face and clearly finding what he was looking for. ‘“Raid. ‘Raid likes Sideswipe.”

A small grin did break out on Sunstreaker’s face then, and he quietly lowered a door between himself and Sideswipe so his twin wouldn’t notice. “So I’m not the only one to have caught the attention of an Aerial,” he mused. “And here I thought flyers preferred other flyers. Shows what I know.”

Fireflight shrugged slightly. “I guess but I mean, there’s us, Blades, Skyfire, Powerglide, Cosmos, Omega Supreme…” The Aerial pulled a face. “No, you’re definitely much better than all of them put together.”

“Glad I rate so highly,” replied Sunstreaker dryly. He stepped out of the embrace, stretched and then lowered himself to the floor to lay back where he’d idled in alt mode. “And... I’m glad you liked the painting.” He looked up at Fireflight with bright optics. “Join me being lazy?”

“I really did!” Fireflight said with another bright smile. He knelt down next to Sunstreaker and then stretched out on his front next to him, kicking his heels up, wings twitching and extending. “I think I can manage to lay here, being lazy, with you.”

“Good.” Sunstreaker shuttered his optics, perfectly content to indulge in his desire to just bask in the sun beating down on the both of them, run his digits idly across one of Fireflight’s arms and listen to the gentle creaks of armor and low whirring of Fireflight’s low-power systems next to him, so out of tune with his own but comforting nevertheless.

The two of them stayed there for a good couple of hours, mostly silent and dozing and happy, broken only intermittently with brief conversation. As it was when Sideswipe rapped sharply on the block Sunstreaker had honestly forgotten he’d placed and told him that they had a task and needed a briefing the golden twin really didn’t want to go anywhere. He lay there for a couple more minutes, then nudged at Fireflight to get up. Sunstreaker transformed and began his speedy, reckless journey home, but not before Fireflight extracted one last hug and beamed at him before jetting off into the sky with ecstatic acrobatics that Sunstreaker could only shake his helm at.

Flyers.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
Sunstreaker came out of the monitor room with a rather grouchy expression, flaring and adjusting his plating as he made his way to the rec room. He really hated monitor duty with a passion. It wasn’t so much the sitting and doing not much for the duration of the shift that got him, unlike Sideswipe, it was the fact he had nothing else to do while he sat and did not much that really made it worse. His processors always focused better with more than one task to do if he was working; his ability to concentrate on more than a couple things at once was partly what made him such a formidable warrior. He beelined for the energon dispenser as soon as he reached the rec room - morning shifts _sucked_ \- and left the Ark almost as soon as he had his ration to drink it away from the looks and whispers that followed him around now.

They’d gotten a lot worse since the Ark residents found out Sunstreaker had accepted Fireflight’s courting request, and while most of the whispers were curious and speculative some of them were jealous and scornful, and those were always the loudest from Sunstreaker’s experience. Thus the golden twin took any opportunity he could to be away from the Ark if he wasn’t with his brother or Fireflight.

What surprised him was the sight of five mechs a fair ways up in the air not far from the base, all in root mode. He stopped and watched as Skydive was apparently explaining something to the team, animated gestures and gentle shifts back and forth the only indication of his talking. The Aerials appeared to take turns interrupting or asking questions, but eventually they seemed to agree on something and flew higher up, all transforming into their alt modes. Sunstreaker decided a training run was as good a thing as any to watch, and settled against the wall of the outside of the Ark, optics trained on the Aerialbots as he slowly sipped at his cube.

The five of them were something to behold when they flew, even when they clearly messed up or fell out of formation. All of them were incredibly graceful in their own way and their mastery of the sky was apparent in most everything they did. He grinned as he watched Air Raid deliberately nose into Skydive, throwing him off course, and the resultant cackles as the Aerialbot strategist dexterously righted himself and then chased his unrepentant bondmate right over Sunstreaker’s head.

Brothers were brothers, whether you had one or four. It was good to see them letting loose even in training, though he figured it would take a lot to get some of them to knuckle down completely. He briefly considered going inside to get one of Ironhide’s training paintball guns and toss that into the mix, but decided he rather liked his paint the way it was and Air Raid and Slingshot were mechs who absolutely held grudges. He watched Silverbolt corral his team back into formation and they flew up and further away, the rather cloudy sky a striking backdrop for the lot of them.

Fireflight was drifting out of formation on the outer edge, following a leading edge of a cloud that happened to be a different color and barrel rolled around it curiously. In doing so, halfway over, he spotted Sunstreaker and promptly focused on him instead.

- _How long have you been watching?_ \- He swung lower as he opened up the comm.

- _Since you were all hovering around in root mode,_ \- Sunstreaker replied, amused. - _It was a nice view to go with my ration._ -

- _Anyone in particular catch your attention?_ \- Fireflight had become more open and less subtle now Sunstreaker had accepted him, but he wasn’t pushing. He was still dropping in height, swinging in across the mountain the Ark had crashed into all those millennia ago.

- _Possibly,_ \- Sunstreaker replied mildly, laughter flickering through his tone. - _Not sure what would make you think that, though._ -

- _Well you’re the one watching and-_ \- The comm abruptly cut out as Fireflight misjudged a tree on the mountain slope, clipped it with one wing, spiralled sideways and crashed nose first into the mountainside. 

Sunstreaker pushed off the wall in alarm, but when no smoke appeared from the crash site and no debris was apparent he narrowed his optics even as he subspaced his cube and started jogging up towards where Fireflight had gone down. - _’Flight? Talk to me._ -

- _I swear that tree wasn’t that big last year._ \- Fireflight responded, perturbed. There was a transformation noise and his head popped into view not that far up the mountain. Sunstreaker sighed and stayed silent until he actually reached the Aerial, staring down at him with a raised optic ridge and then moving around him gently pressing at armor and moving parts to make sure they worked alright. He plucked a large branch out from behind Fireflight’s main booster with an exasperated noise. 

“You’re an idiot,” he said succinctly as he came back around Fireflight’s front, holding up the branch briefly before tossing it away over his shoulder.”Honestly, pay attention when you’re flying. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Oh that feels much better,” Fireflight commented before shaking his head. “No I’m fine, really. I promise.” He stepped closer to wrap a hand over Sunstreaker’s arm. “I’m sorry if I worried you. I just didn’t see the tree, I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Then talk to me over comms and pay attention to where you’re going,” Sunstreaker retorted, flicking the side of Fireflight’s helm. “I don’t want to get blamed for a bent aileron when I didn’t even do anything.”

Fireflight grinned ruefully. “But I’m not good at concentrating on two things at once and you’re really distracting.” He stepped closer again.

Sunstreaker pursed his lips. “Maybe I should stop watching you practice then,” he mused, “if I’m going to make you crash every time you see me.” He nodded his helm back up towards the sky. “Speaking of, aren’t your gestalt looking for you?”

“I don’t care if I crash,” Fireflight murmured before he leant in to press his lips to Sunstreaker’s in a firm, but tender kiss.

Sunstreaker froze for a moment, hands automatically dropping to Fireflight’s arms even as he became suddenly acutely aware of the mech right in front of him. He only just stopped his processors from stalling, and they very quickly caught on to what was happening, and abruptly he was pressing into Fireflight and returning the kiss, optics sliding shut and a noise of surprise escaping his vocalizer. He ran one hand up Fireflight’s arm to his cheek, where it settled, keeping the flyer’s helm in place.

Fireflight made a pleased noise and wrapped his other arm around Sunstreaker’s waist, pulling their chassis together. He pulled away enough to smile before kissing the frontliner again, never pushing for more but thrilled Sunstreaker was reciprocating. The hand on his arm tightened a little, the only sign of Fireflight’s fight over his control and the want to push for more. Sunstreaker opened his mouth under Fireflight’s, his other hand coming up to join his first on the other cheek and a low sonance of encouragement rumbling from his chest. He fought the urge to flush a little when one of his fans kicked on on its lowest setting, forcing it off again with a rather heavy-handed command and instead focusing on pressing into the flyer in his grasp.

Fireflight’s hand rose from Sunstreaker’s arm to the back of his helm, holding him still whilst he deepened the kiss, glossa dipping in to trace the other. His digits tightened on Sunstreaker’s side when he felt the fan kick in, then disappear again. He wanted it back and nipped at Sunstreaker’s bottom lip briefly. Sunstreaker groaned softly and pulled Fireflight’s glossa greedily into his mouth, hands tightening on the flyer’s face briefly. He didn’t notice this time when the fan came back on, apparently as stubborn as Sunstreaker himself was, and he shifted his weight forwards as one leg nudged between Fireflight’s slightly. One of his hands slowly trailed down Fireflight’s cheek to his neck, then shoulders and the top of his chest armor, digits gentle and exploratory.

There was another appreciative noise and Fireflight was shifting on his pedes slightly to widen his stance. He dropped the arm wrapped around Sunstreaker’s waist to his aft, cupping it to pull him in closer. Chasing Sunstreaker’s glossa deeper back into his mouth, Fireflight tilted his head, making a soft moan, his own systems beginning to wake up to his situation.

It was Fireflight’s engine rumble and his own answering one that started Sunstreaker out of his very pleasant reverie, and he pulled back a little to slow down their kiss, the hand on Fireflight’s chest flattening across it. “Primus, ‘Flight,” he murmured against the flyer’s lips. “What you’re doing to me...”

Fireflight smiled widely, pleased. He pressed a soft little kiss to Sunstreaker’s lips. “You’re doing it to me too and I want to keep doing it.” The hand holding the frontliner’s helm trailed round to the front, digits barely there, to trace the line of his cheek, then lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

Sunstreaker’s mouth quirked upwards even as he pressed kisses to Fireflight’s digits as they passed. “You are, too,” he murmured, meaning every word. He brushed the inside of a wing. “We’ll pick this up later, promise. Just don’t want to be in the open.”

The wing shivered under the touch. Fireflight pressed another gentle kiss where his digits had just been before relaxing his grip and taking half a step backwards. Even as he smiled at the words there was something a little more heated in his optics. “I’ll be there, just tell me when, where.”

“My old quarters is where Sides set up his brewery to make his high grade. It’ll be empty, he’s not in there often and I’ll kick him out if he is. Code is 19921984 if you get there before I do.” Sunstreaker grinned a little lopsidedly. “Anytime tonight. If you want.”

“I’m all yours,” Fireflight promised.

- _Whilst I don’t want to interrupt when you’re enjoying yourselves, do you think we can have Fireflight back now?_ \- Silverbolt’s open comm cut through their reverie.

Sunstreaker started, then snorted lightly. - _I dunno,_ \- he replied, grin turning cheeky. - _How much are you willing to give me for him?_ -

- _After witnessing him fly into a tree, not that much, and he’ll be a distracted aerial hazard now,_ \- Silverbolt replied with a clear level of amusement.

- _Hey, it’s not my fault!_ \- Fireflight protested weakly, grinning at Sunstreaker. 

“It absolutely is,” the golden twin retorted. - _I can’t help that I’m gorgeous enough to distract mechs. Go on, have him back._ -

“I’ll see you tonight,” Fireflight promised lowly, dragging himself away and finally letting go. He stepped back far enough from Sunstreaker not to catch him in the transformation sequence, or the back blast from his jets, keeping optic contact the whole time. The Aerial tripped over a rock, fell off the cliff with a yelp and managed to transform before he hit the mountain again. He blasted up skywards, doing loops as he climbed, clearly still full of joy and bounce, despite the embarrassing exit.

Sunstreaker couldn’t help it; as soon as Fireflight disappeared over the side he started laughing, not stopping for a good minute even long after the Aerial had disappeared with the rest of his team. Eventually though he wound down, shook his head slightly and began his retreat back down the mountain, pulling out his ration and drinking the rest of it as he went, the morning’s duty and itch to escape the Ark all but forgotten.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
Despite Sunstreaker’s words, when he arrived at his own quarters later that evening Sideswipe was inside. His small refinery and brewery wasn’t going, but he was poring over some documents with a practiced optic, murmuring to himself every so often. He apparently didn’t notice when Sunstreaker came in, because he jumped and swore when the yellow frontliner cleared his intake pointedly.

“Primus Sunny, don’t do that,” Sideswipe snapped.

“Then learn to be more circumspect,” retorted Sunstreaker with a grin. “You’d be dead if I was a ‘Con.”

“Yeah yeah yeah. What are you doing here anyway?”

“This _is_ my room.”

“You never use it,” said Sideswipe dismissively. “We’ve always recharged together.”

“Well, I want it tonight.” Sunstreaker could feel the flush creeping through his faceplates, but he wasn’t about to back down from his twin. Sideswipe stared at him for several long seconds, then barked in delighted laughter.

“Oh I see!” He straightened from whatever he was reading and put his hands on his hips. “You and Fireflight must be doing well then. Look at you, wanting him all alone and to yourself.”

“Don’t be jealous,” replied Sunstreaker primly. “Besides, you could be getting some too if you weren’t doing a me.”

“I... what?” Sideswipe blinked, then frowned. “No one’s been giving me gifts, so clearly I’m not doing a ‘you’, as you so rightfully put it.”

“Maybe not, but I recommend you open your optics a little and take a good look around. Someone out there really wants you, and no, I’m not telling you who it is. Work it out for yourself.” Sunstreaker gestured at the door. “Now, out. I have a date and you’re not going to ruin it for me.”

“Of course not,” Sideswipe assured cheerily, but it seemed a little faraway. “I expect details later though.”

: _Sides, I swear to Primus..._ :

: _I’m going, I’m going, don’t get your finials in a twist._ :

True to his word Sideswipe left, leaving Sunstreaker alone in the room. The golden twin ex-vented, long and slow, and turned to survey the room. For all it was basically Sideswipe’s sanctuary to refine and brew to his spark’s content he kept it neat and ordered - so very different to their own quarters, where chaos reigned supreme - so it felt a lot bigger than it was. The berth was used, but only rarely; mostly when Sideswipe had become so caught up in his processes that he didn’t realize the time until he was pretty much in recharge standing up. Sunstreaker would always join him and bring him to berth so they could recharge together as ever. He walked over to what Sideswipe had been studying when he first came in, and notes in his twin’s elegant, sketchy script told of at least two different recipes he was wanting to try. He gathered the pads up and tucked them neatly next to one of the purifiers, then wandered over to the berth to wait, pulling out a sketchpad to pass the time.

The door chime rang first before Fireflight opened the door himself, but he waited on the threshold, smiling, a little shyly. “Hi. I’m glad you got here first. I think I would have talked myself round in circles otherwise.”

Sunstreaker looked up from sketching and waved him in, looking a little bemused. “Why? You were plenty eager earlier.”

Fireflight meandered in, glancing around the room curiously, but briefly, optics drawn back to Sunstreaker. “Because I got a chance to think about kissing you and it’s so much better now I have and I’ve been thinking about it all day but I don’t want to push or anything.” He stopped at the side of the berth. “What are you drawing?”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you to be here,” said Sunstreaker, shaking his helm lightly. He turned the sketchpad around a little so Fireflight could see the sketchy beginnings of himself on the page. “See?”

Fireflight’s optics lit up and slid onto the berth beside Sunstreaker, one leg dangling off the edge. He lifted his digits to trace the outline slightly but never touched the page before turning his head to grin at Sunstreaker. “So when I asked you before if anyone had caught your attention…”

Sunstreaker rolled his optics and pushed at Fireflight. “Obviously you did, you idiot.” He set his pencil and sketchpad down on a nearby surface and kissed Fireflight briefly. “I don’t go around making out with every flyer I come across you know.”

“Well that’s really good to know.” Fireflight ran his digits down Sunstreaker’s chest, light, barely there. “I’m not sure how I’d feel if you did, not when I’ve tried to be really good.”

“Have you, now?” Sunstreaker covered the hand on his chest with one of his own. “I don’t know about that, I seem to remember someone crashing out and then groping me earlier. Doesn’t really say ‘good mech’ to me...”

Fireflight pretended to look shocked, but it was ruined by the grin. “I just meant to kiss you, you started the groping and it’s not my fault you’re distracting.” He shifted round slightly, rolling onto one hip to be able to see Sunstreaker better. “But considering you seemed to like it, maybe I’ve been going about this the wrong way. Maybe you don’t want me to be a good mech for you.”

“Maybe I don’t,” Sunstreaker agreed, optics darkening a little. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Well, for starters, I’m not going to just _tell_ you,” Fireflight said promptly before leaning in until he was a solid line of heat along Sunstreaker’s side. “And secondly, I think I’m going to pick up where we left off, now we’re distinctly not in the open.” He pressed down into the other mech, the kiss much firmer than the first one Fireflight had given him. Sunstreaker almost immediately opened his mouth under Fireflight’s, groaning appreciatively and clutching at armor on the flyer’s sides. He turned around a little without breaking their lip lock so they were essentially face-to-face properly and hooked one leg over Fireflight’s that was dangling off the edge of the berth.

“Hardly complaining,” he managed to get out.

“I don’t plan on you complaining,” Fireflight murmured, nipping at his bottom lip before pressing back in to deepen the kiss. One hand raised to cradle the back of Sunstreaker’s head, digits tight to hold him exactly where Fireflight wanted him. The other worked its way round from his chest to Sunstreaker’s hip, pulling him a little closer. Sunstreaker moved again, shifting entirely until he was straddling Fireflight and pressing his hips down into the flyer’s grip. Two of his fans came to life, whirring gently, and one hand moved up Fireflight’s side in deliberate feather-light touches before starting on the inside of a wing, dragging gentle, experimental digittips along the expanse.

“Yeah?” he asked breathlessly, pulling away from Fireflight’s lips briefly. “You planning on me screaming your name into the berth instead?”

Fireflight shivered under the touches to his wing before groaning at Sunstreaker’s words. His digits dug in, pulling the yellow mech into him harder, the kiss following suit. He caught Sunstreaker’s glossa up with his own before pulling back, tugging harder on his bottom lip. “You want that don’t you? You want me to make you lose control, take it from you so you can’t do anything but feel how much I want you.” Fireflight dragged his digits over the front of Sunstreaker’s finial, rough and pressing into every seam. “Because I do want you that much and I’m going to show you.”

“ _Yes_.” Sunstreaker hissed in pleasure, arching into Fireflight’s frame and whining at the digits on his helm fin, pushing at them for more. “Yes, Primus, ‘Flight, I want you. _Need_.” He rocked his hips into the flyer’s and his other hand came up to latch at the top of the wings across Fireflight’s shoulders, tugging at an air brake a little ineffectually.

“So gorgeous,” Fireflight murmured, rocking his own hips. “And that you want to share this with me? I’m going to prove that you made the right choice.” The finial got the same rough treatment again before Fireflight dropped his head, a trail of kisses, licks and bites making their way down Sunstreaker’s jaw and neck. His other hand dragged up Sunstreaker’s aft to his back to play with the exhausts, dragging over the rims and catching the seams.

“Nothing to prove to me,” Sunstreaker got out, a little shakily, both hands now gliding across the tops of Fireflight’s wings and across to a booster. “You chose me, that’s enough.” His engine growled its turbo-charged approval under his chassis and the vibrations made him buck a little in Fireflight’s hold.

Fireflight groaned, wings twitching under the touch. The hand on Sunstreaker’s back abruptly tightened, pushing him in tight to Fireflight chest just before his engine rumbled into life. His other hand dropped to one of Sunstreaker’s knees, pulling it closer to his hip just before he moved. He hauled Sunstreaker up enough to move his legs, pitching him backwards onto the berth properly and crowding in between his thighs, pushing back down to keep them close. “Maybe not prove then, but I definitely have other things I need to do to you.”

Sunstreaker let out a low moan at the feel of Fireflight’s engine, which promptly turned into a sound of surprise when he was forced back into the berth. He wrapped both of his legs firmly around Fireflight’s waist in response, hands gliding over wing tops and across chestplates and shoulders. Fans kicked up a notch when Fireflight spoke and his systems started purring happily, helm coming up a little to catch the flyer’s optics.

“Anything,” murmured Sunstreaker, “whatever you want to do. Primus, ‘Flight...”

Fireflight smiled, slow and easy. “Anything huh?” He bet down to kiss Sunstreaker again, hands dragging down his sides to his hips. Digging his digits into the seams he hitched them up off the berth a little, pressing down with his hips. “I think we should start with that screaming you mentioned and go from there.”

Sunstreaker _whined_ when Fireflight pulled him up, both at the _pleasure-pain_ that rocketed through him from the digits digging into his hip armor none too gently and from the rev of his engine apparently agreeing with every word out of Fireflight’s vocalizer. One of his hands tightened involuntarily on a wing while the other clutched at an arm, and a faint click sounded as the cover for Sunstreaker’s interface array slid back without any input from him. “Yeah,” he managed to get out, “anything.”

Fireflight rocked down hard at the grip on his wing, groaning, but managed to let go of Sunstreaker’s hips to start working his way down his chassis. He used lips, glossa and denta to wring any sound out of the mech beneath him he could. When the louder noises came with harder bites Fireflight kept it up, chasing each one. Using one hand to balance his weight, Fireflight trailed the other around a hip joint, grazing the open seam, barely missing the bare interface array and then back up, harder this time. Sunstreaker’s cries were breathy and cut-off as he chased each touch and bite and he arched into Fireflight’s ministrations unabashedly, legs spreading wider to give the flyer more of the seam to work with in his hips. The cover to his valve cycled open at the next brush of Fireflight’s digits around the array and his head fell back onto the berth, shifting his hips, inaudible chanting coming from his vocalizer under his breath.

Fireflight just brushed over Sunstreaker’s node with the tip of one digit as his mouth found an open hip seam to bite at. “I want to hear you. Let me hear you Sunstreaker. I know you need it so bad, but I want to hear you.” That digit pressed down harder, holding there for a long moment.

Sunstreaker keened loud and long and bucked into Fireflight’s touch, the hand on his arm leaving to grasp tightly at the berth instead, somehow still peripherally aware of his strength. “Sunny,” he breathed, voice low and a little raspy and more than a little lust-filled. “‘Flight, please...”

“Yes, that’s it Sunny. So good,” Fireflight told him, voice low. His digits finally touched the valve, tracing the open edges, teasing the node occasionally, before slowly sinking one in. He lifted his head to watch Sunstreaker. “So gorgeous.”

Sunstreaker’s hiss of pleasure was unadulterated and loud, valve clamping down around the intruding digit even as the hand not busy with a death-grip on the berth came down to blindly grab holding of the leading edge of a wing to follow it to Fireflight’s shoulder and helm. “Yes, ‘Flight, please, more,” he groaned, engine revving and fans now whirling madly throughout his chassis and so incredibly turned on. “ _Need._ ”

Fireflight slid the digit almost all the way out before thrusting it back in harder than before. He dropped his head to find the node with his mouth, licking over it before giving it a sharp little suck. “You said I could do anything. Maybe I want to tease you more.” He dragged the digit out again, scraping against the valve walls. “You’re so tight.”

Sunstreaker cried out, one leg drawing upwards some as a full-frame shudder ran through him and his engine revved hard. He pressed into Fireflight’s digit and mouth as much as he could and the grip on the flyer’s helm tightened involuntarily. “ _Please._ ”

Fireflight rewarded Sunstreaker with another digit, pressing in slowly as he pressed his glossa into the node and let out a little hum. Once they were completely buried within Sunstreaker’s valve he curled them upwards before setting up a rhythm, thrusting them deep each time. He shifted onto his elbow to bring his other hand into play, clamping down on one thigh and pushing it down to the berth. Sunstreaker’s vocalizer cracked as he shouted his pleasure to the room at large, wanting so much to meet every one of Fireflight’s digit thrusts with his hips but unable to move them very far due to the firm grip on his thigh. Instead his valve clenched and loosened with every movement of Fireflight’s digits, finding a rhythm and attempting to draw out the pleasure, while little noises and words of encouragement fell from Sunstreaker’s lips.

“Primus, yes, please, more, ‘Flight, _so good,_ please...”

The third digit teased, brushing the edge of the valve over and over before abruptly Fireflight pushed it in, sucking at the node again. “You feel so good around my digits. I know you’re going to feel even better around my spike. I know that’s what you want, when you say more. You want me to fill you up properly don’t you?”

Sunstreaker bit his bottom lip, digits in the berth flexing repeatedly as his intakes got more ragged. “Your spike’s going... gonna feel so- so good,” Sunstreaker choked out, the digits stretching out his valve none too gentle and so, so _good._ “Fill me up, so full.”

“So gorgeous like this,” Fireflight breathed. “Overload for me and I’ll give you my spike, as much as you can take.” He lowered his head back down again, lavishing attention on the node as he picked up speed with his hand, pumping in out of the valve without pause. 

Sunstreaker tried to prolong Fireflight’s ministrations for as long as he could, pleasure wracking through his frame from talented digits and a warm, insistent mouth intent on his node, but the thought of Fireflight’s promise was just a little too good and he wanted it a little too much, and the overload that flashed through his frame didn’t quite take him by surprise but he wasn’t expecting it to be as intense as it was as he keened out Fireflight’s name, valve clamping tightly down around still-moving digits. He could feel the lubricant flowing down his thighs and through his shaky aftermath as his systems rode high on the charge he could also feel it get caught up in Fireflight’s movements, the glide suddenly much easier and so much more intense. He arched off the berth as another shock ran down his back, the aftermath slowly bringing him down but not without lingering phantoms of pleasure, and he took in air greedily, quickly, wholly uncaring about the mess around his pelvis. “Primus,” he murmured against his own digits.

Fireflight pulled his digits free and used his other hand to push Sunstreaker’s other thigh out to the side before settling his chest right over Sunstreaker’s valve. “I’m not done with you yet.” He revved up his engine hard, vibrations sinking straight through his plating and down in Sunstreaker’s pelvis. The resultant cry from Sunstreaker was staticked and unexpected and pleasured, the come-down suddenly rushed away as sensation washed through his frame again. He bit into the knuckle of one of his digits and he was sure he felt something short in his side but the feeling from his valve gave him ample cause to ignore it.

“Fireflight, please,” he choked out somehow. “Need you...”

“I’ve got you,” Fireflight reassured, sliding up Sunstreaker’s body to kiss him. There was a faint click and Fireflight’s spike pressurized against Sunstreaker’s thigh. “You’re so good. Going to take care of you.” The flyer pressed his lips to the frontliner’s as he dragged his spike over the slick edges of his valve, grazing the node.

Sunstreaker latched onto Fireflight, diving into the kiss a little uncoordinated but more than a little desperate. His digits dug into shoulder armor and back armor just under the central booster, clinging simply for something to hold on to. “Frag me,” he demanded shakily into Fireflight’s mouth. “Take me, please, I’m yours.”

Fireflight groaned, hips hitching unconsciously at Sunstreaker’s words. He shifted, lining himself up before pushing in teasingly slow. He kept his weight pushing down on the other mech, keeping him from speeding anything up until he was completely buried. He bit gently at Sunstreaker’s lip as he pulled away from the kiss. “You feel so good, so perfect, like you were made for me.” Fireflight rolled his hips, staying pressed up against Sunstreaker.

Soft whines of pleasure, staticky and needy, spilled from Sunstreaker’s vocalizer as he felt Fireflight push agonizingly slowly into him, and tried to shift into the flyer’s weight when he felt the spike bottom out. It was thicker and heavier than the digits that had been stretching him out earlier and it felt so good Sunstreaker wasn’t sure he wouldn’t overload just from the first movement. He clenched around the spike teasingly and ran a glossa over his bottom lip, bringing his bright, overcharged optics down a little to meet Fireflight’s. “Feel amazing,” he breathed, “so full. Move ‘Flight. Want to feel you take me, want to see you let go.”

Fireflight hissed, kissing Sunstreaker hard before pulling back slightly. He hooked his hands under Sunstreaker’s thighs, hitching his aft off the berth a little and tilting his hips up. “Bet you can overload again-” Fireflight pulled out almost all the way and thrust back in with a roll of his hips. “-and again, just from this.” This time when he sank all the way in he didn’t stop, finding his rhythm easily.

This time Sunstreaker’s cries were loud, and unhindered by his knuckle as his hands flew back and grabbed at the back of the berth, stretching himself out and arching up into every thrust Fireflight made. He could feel the tremors running through him and his systems running hot and wild, fans screaming in their attempts to cool him down, plating flaring out to try and get some more cooler air under his armor. His optics shuttered and he dipped his head back as a particularly hard thrust had his vocalizer short out briefly halfway through the noise it forced out of him, every one of Fireflight’s movements fragging another little noise or staticky cry from him. “Yes, more, faster, please, Fireflight, you’re amazing,” he keened, only just aware of his inability to form full sentences but equally as uncaring. It felt _amazing,_ especially with a body as sensitized as his was at that moment, and he was loving every second.

Fireflight did as asked. He pulled one hand off Sunstreaker’s hip to rub his thumb over the node, not keeping in time with his thrusts. “You feel so good, made for this. You take it so well. I want to feel you overload from my spike Sunny.” He dropped his second hand to press Sunstreaker’s hips back down to the berth so he could thrust harder.

Unable to move as he wanted now Sunstreaker was even more vocal to make up for it, the sheer sensation coursing through him plain to see as he opened out and submitted entirely to the flyer above him, the out-of-sync touches across his port node driving him absolutely crazy. The second overload to pass through him did catch him by surprise, as he hadn’t felt the build up to it like the first, and he screamed Fireflight’s name as his systems abruptly locked and static sparked across his suddenly rigid frame, berth creaking from the pressure of his digits above his helm. His valve clamped down, dripping more and more with lubricant, and Fireflight’s spike was suddenly much tighter and much more present as the walls of Sunstreaker’s valve contracted around it. It felt much thicker all of a sudden and he moaned again, back bowing and every line of his chassis taut.

“ _Frag_ ,” Fireflight swore, hips jerking out of rhythm, much harder and deeper at the clenching around his spike. “Primus, Sunny, yes, yes that’s it. Give it to me,” He fought to get himself back in rhythm but his own systems were racing now and he was fast approaching his own overload. “Can you do it again? I know you can. Overload for me again. So good for me, so gorgeous. Your valve was made for this, for me.” Fireflight’s thrusts were faster and harder now, unrelenting as he chased his own pleasure.

“Oh-” Sunstreaker’s vocalizer shorted out again and his overly-sensitized body roared in approval, performance engine thundering into life, unbidden and glorious as the vibrations pulsed through his frame. He didn’t even have time for the come down from his overload, Fireflight making it an impossibility with his movements and impossibly deeper thrusts. His systems were sending warning after warning across his HUD, all of which he summarily dismissed uncaringly, and his processors weren’t quite sure what to do with the over-abundance of input from his valve. He backlogged it instead, intent on dealing with it afterwards, and instead focused what little he could on rhythmically squeezing and releasing Fireflight’s spike.

His third overload was one he felt coming but still wasn’t ready for, and it was then that all the backlogged input data he’d put off came roaring to the fore, extending it and making it so much bigger than he anticipated. He completely staticked out and after the initial lock-up went totally and utterly strutless, panting shamelessly through it mouthing Fireflight’s name over and over as his vocalizer didn’t seem to want to work anymore.

Sunstreaker’s overload was more than enough to push Fireflight over the edge as well and he pushed his hips down into Sunstreaker’s hard, filling the clenching valve with transfluid. The flyer groaned out Sunstreaker’s name, head dropping as he shuddered his way through his own release. “Perfect, just perfect, Sunny, so good,” he gasped out.

Sunstreaker moaned with a pleasured rev of his engine as he felt Fireflight’s release, arching up and into the feeling as much as he could he how strutless he was feeling and how Primus-damned good Fireflight felt inside him. He unshuttered his optics slightly, looking down at the flyer, and managed a small, weak smile through his processor haze. “Made... made for you,” he murmured, testing his voice tentatively.

Fireflight lifted his head, smiling, before nosing down to kiss Sunstreaker gently. He rolled his hips slightly, feeling the wet heat around him, enjoying the sensation. “Yes. You were so good for me Sunny, so good. I’m going to take care of you now, alright?” He pressed another soft kiss to his mouth before easing his spike out.

Sunstreaker made a noise of protest at the feeling of Fireflight sliding out of his body, trying to get his legs to obey him enough to wrap them around the flyer’s waist, but he had no luck as his body wasn’t quite ready to listen to his processors yet. He managed to let go of the top of the berth though and brought one of his hands down to land on one of Fireflight’s. “Let me come down,” he murmured, voice raspy. “I wanna see... see what you taste like.”

Fireflight gave him a lazy smile. “Do you now? Let me get you cleaned up first and we’ll see if I haven’t fragged your CPU into reboot.” He slipped away lower until his head was between Sunstreaker’s thighs. “And anyway, you said I could do anything I wanted.” He pressed his glossa to the yellow expanse of plating that was shiny with lubricant and dragged it over the surface, working his way across one thigh, then the other.

Sunstreaker gasped, clutching at Fireflight’s helm out of reflex and spreading his legs a little wider. “How... how are you even real right now,” he moaned. “What you do to me ‘Flight, _Primus_...”

Fireflight tilted his head to look up at Sunstreaker. “I’m looking after you and if that means making you feel good, I can do that.” He bent his head back to his task, cleaning up the line of lubricant and transfluid leaking from the valve, carefully cleaning around the valve. “You’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d let me drag another overload from you, even though you’d crash out, even if it hurt.”

“Best kind of pain,” Sunstreaker said lowly into the back of one of his hands. Faint tremors ran through his body as Fireflight’s glossa worked over his pelvis and thighs. “I would.”

“What do you want more? Another overload or to see what I taste like,” Fireflight asked before running his glossa over the very outer edge of the valve. “Because if I overload you again, I don’t think you’ll be doing anything more than recharging.”

Sunstreaker’s valve twitched at the touch and he shuttered his optics fully again as he fought the urge to voice his approval. “You’ve had three out of me,” he got out after a moment, “and I’ve only had one out of you. I really want to suck you off.”

“I’m not saying no,” Fireflight said roughly, licking the other edge of the valve. “I guess you better do something about it then.”

Sunstreaker did let out a groan then but didn’t move for a moment, testing his limbs to see if he had full functionality to them yet. While they weren’t responding as quickly as he’d like they were at least doing what he wanted, and as Fireflight gave one good, long lick right across his valve Sunstreaker shuddered, fought the urge the clamp his knees around the flyer’s head and pushed the probing glossa away with the hand he still had on Fireflight’s helm. He then sat up with some effort, slid off the berth and landed on his knees in front of it, facing the Aerialbot with intent in his optics. “I want to suck you off,” he repeated, more firmly this time.

Fireflight slid his legs off the berth, pedes landing on the floor on either side of Sunstreaker’s knees, but stayed with his aft leaning up against the edge of it. He reached out to run a hand over the top of Sunstreaker’s helm. “I’m all yours.”

“Mine,” Sunstreaker murmured, and he leaned forwards to press kisses up the inside of Fireflight’s thighs, hands landing about halfway up and pushing them apart a little more. He nosed at the base of the spike when he reached it and brought his lips to one side of it, sealing them around a small section and sucking at it before repeating it on the other side. Cold air swept across the spike every time Sunstreaker pulled away as he suctioned his way so very slowly around the base of the spike before moving upwards. He half-shuttered his optics and made a small noise of approval into his ministrations, tightening the digits on Fireflight’s thighs slightly.

Fireflight groaned, his free hand gripping the edge of the berth as the other flexed against Sunstreaker’s helm, not pushing but making its presence known. “I taste of you, from where I’ve had you. Are you going to give me your mouth now? Let me take it, claim it.”

Sunstreaker looked up at Fireflight, a brief grin appearing on his lips before he ran his glossa up the underside of the spike slowly until he reached the tip, which he promptly latched onto and sucked at, hard. His glossa teased around the edge and he shifted a little so he was more upright, and one of his hands dropped off a thigh and instead wrapped itself around the base, stroking languidly. He kept his hand moving even as he left the spike briefly. “That what you want? Claim my mouth? Overload?”

The flyer hissed at the suction, optics never leaving Sunstreaker’s face. “You’re so good for me, I know you’d let me. You’d let me claim every inch of you.” Fireflight grinned suddenly, face lighting up. “Are you going to do some of the work this time or do I need to _take_ again?”

“You seem to have so much fun with that though,” mused Sunstreaker, then promptly brought his lips back to Fireflight’s spike and took most of it down in one go. He let go with his hand so he could carry on, until his nose was brushing Fireflight’s pelvic plates and the spike was sitting solidly at the back of his throat. He hummed in satisfaction, the weight of it on his glossa and feeling of his mouth so full setting his systems going again. Dragging back up the spike he reached the tip, toyed with it for a couple of seconds, then went straight back down again. He removed his other hand from Fireflight’s thigh and set it on the floor to better balance himself, simultaneously giving the flyer wordless permission to move.

“ _Primus_ yes Sunny,” Fireflight groaned. He tightened his grip on the back of Sunstreaker’s helm and the next time Sunstreaker dropped back down again, Fireflight pushed with his hand and thrust up with his hips. Gradually he settled into a rhythm, pace picking up when Sunstreaker showed no signs of wanting him to stop or slow. “So good, such a good mouth.”

Sunstreaker moaned softly, meeting every thrust up of Fireflight’s hips without fail, the spike touching the back of his throat each time. He started swallowing around it after a moment of letting Fireflight find his rhythm, keeping it in his mouth as long as he was allowed and letting his glossa glide along it with each pull out. He tentatively let his denta scrape along it lightly on one pull out, optics shuttering with the sensation, and he popped off the spike only to lave a glossa over where he’d scraped and then was right back down it.

Fireflight hissed at the scrape of denta and when Sunstreaker took him back in, his other hand latched onto Sunstreaker’s head. He held him still when he touched the back of his throat and stayed there for a long moment before letting him draw back again, finding the rhythm, but slightly faster now, slightly harder. “You want it so bad don’t you? To have a spike in you, any way you can get. And you’re so perfect for it.”

Sunstreaker tried to make a noise of agreement but it came out as more of a whimper as Fireflight’s used his mouth unceremoniously in a particularly hard thrust. He ran the hand he wasn’t using the balance himself down the front and sides of his own frame, still very turned on by Fireflight’s reactions, until he ran a digit over his own valve and his engine vibrated abruptly, sending waves through his frame and causing another scrape of denta and another loud moan.

“That valve is mine Sunny,” Fireflight said lowly, hissing at the scrape. “No touching. I’ll give you your overload.” His own systems raced, engine rumbling, fans roaring and he never lifted his optics from where his spike was disappearing between Sunstreaker’s lips. “I’m close…”

Sunstreaker groaned and reluctantly took his hand away from his valve, bringing it back up instead to trace around the base of Fireflight’s spike whenever the other mech had pulled out of Sunstreaker’s mouth. He revved his engine again, letting the vibrations race through them both, and picked up the pace of moving up and down over the spike to encourage Fireflight to move faster, taking it as deep as he could.

Fireflight groaned. “Good, you’re so good for me.” The overload raced up his spinal struts and he pushed his spike as deep as he could, digits digging into the seams at the back of the finials. The flyer threw back his helm, hips jerked as he emptied his tank into Sunstreaker’s mouth. Sunstreaker stilled as soon as he felt Fireflight stiffen and relaxed his throat even more to allow him to press as far into the golden twin’s throat as he could or wanted. He swallowed down the transfluid with a pleased noise and shuttered his optics as he felt the spike pulse across his glossa, hot and thick. He stayed there until Fireflight loosened his hold on his helm and allowed him to slide off the spike with a deliberately obscene noise, licking the last bits of transfluid from the tip and running his glossa over his lips.

“Taste good,” he said, hoarsely, his voice sparse and well-used.

Fireflight made a noise of approval, hooking his hands under Sunstreaker’s arms and hauling him to his pedes to be able to kiss him roughly, pulling him in close until they both had to pull back to vent properly. Fireflight gave Sunstreaker a heated look, hand dropping down between them to find the still open valve. “You were so good, when I said not to touch. I promised I’d look after you.” He ground the heel of his hand against the node.

Sunstreaker’s head tipped back briefly and he bucked into Fireflight’s grip. “Ride you,” he groaned, “please.”

“Still not had enough of my spike,” Fireflight murmured, nipping at Sunstreaker’s neck cables before letting go abruptly to boost back onto the berth until he was sat up against one wall, legs splayed apart and spike standing proud between. Sunstreaker watched for just a short moment, drinking in the sight, then crawled onto the berth after him and settled himself in Fireflight’s lap, letting the spike sit briefly against his thigh.

“No,” was all he said, succinctly, and then raised himself up to take Fireflight’s spike and guide it into his port. When he sank back down again he ex-vented slowly, his valve now well stretched and well used but no less sensitive, so it didn’t take him long at all to swallow the whole thing into his body, shivering at the feeling. He rotated his hips a few times and then began to move up and drive back down again in earnest, plunging the flyer’s spike once more back into the heat of his valve, thick and oh so damned good.

Fireflight groaned, sensitive so close after his own overload. His hands landed on Sunstreaker’s thighs, tight and urging him on. “That’s it Sunny. Use me to overload. You take me so well and you still want it. So greedy.” One thumb slid over the front of Sunstreaker’s pelvis, just grazing the node.

“Only for you,” Sunstreaker replied, leaning down to kiss Fireflight, body still moving. He wasn’t going to last long, he knew that, still too sensitive from three previous overloads and feeling Fireflight’s twice over, but he _wanted_ and he was going to get his satisfaction one way or another. He let out a short sharp moan as Fireflight adjusted his legs slightly and threw Sunstreaker a little off-balance, forcing his spike that little bit deeper as the golden twin came back down. “You feel so good, ‘Flight, so Primus-fragging good... _slag_...”

“You’re so beautiful,” Fireflight told him, between kisses. “And I’m yours, anytime you need this.” His hands slid up to Sunstreaker’s hips to help him rise up and to slam him back down harder, sheathing his spike as far as it could go. “I’ve got you. I know you’re close. I can feel it. Going to give me another overload? Going to show me how gorgeous you are when you lose it?”

Sunstreaker wrapped one leg around Fireflight’s and cried out each time he fell back into the flyer’s lap, taking the spike in full each and every time. He pressed ‘yes’ and kisses into Fireflight’s jaw and neck and ran his hands down the front of Fireflight’s armor, but he hadn’t even reached the bottom of the seam of his chestplates when overload hit. He bottomed out on the spike as he keened, trembling in the wake of a much gentler overload than his previous ones but no less powerful or satisfying. His valve clenched and relaxed automatically through it all and Sunstreaker was vaguely aware of Fireflight’s encouraging tones through the vast haze of his high, sated, full and happy. He let his frame relax and kissed Fireflight much more gently, digits playing with his chest seam absently while the rest of him somehow managed to find the strength to keep him upright.

“So good,” Fireflight murmured in one audial. He slid one hand up Sunstreaker’s back and tugged him forward against his chest. His hips hitched at the movement, his own systems still racing but he kept his movements gentle. The hand still on Sunstreaker’s hip clenched a little, feeling the valve tightening around him as Sunstreaker came down from his high. “You’ve done everything I asked and more.”

“Wanted to.” Sunstreaker raised a hand to trace down Fireflight’s face. “You can use me again if you want. I’m out of overloads, but I’ll always like feeling you fill me.”

“You’re so good to me,” Fireflight groaned before gently tipping Sunstreaker onto his back again so he could start thrusting, driving deep and hard, rhythm already fast from how wound up his systems were. “You feel so good.”

“Made for you.” Sunstreaker reached down and ran his digits over where Fireflight was plunging in and out of his body, too tired to get wound up again but relishing the feeling. “Claim me, ‘Flight, you know you want to.”

The flyer groaned, hands clenching into fists beside Sunstreaker on the berth as he chased his overload. Sunstreaker’s words were pushing him towards it faster and it crept up on him without warning. He cried out Sunstreaker’s name as his hips juddered, driving his spike in as deep as he could to fill Sunstreaker’s valve with transfluid.

Sunstreaker lifted a hand and guided Fireflight’s face down to his, where he pressed kisses across his cheeks and lips, pressing into Fireflight’s hips with his own. “Love that,” he murmured between kisses. “Love this, you making me yours. Just you, always you. You feel so good in me.”

“Anytime,” Fireflight replied. “I’m yours.” He settled a little closer. “I should clean you up but you were disappointed last time I pulled out. How long can you stand this?”

“Long as you want.” Sunstreaker shrugged lightly, lips curving upwards. “I love it.”

Fireflight smiled back. “Will you do one more thing for me then? When I pull out, will you close your array to keep my claim where it should be?”

That made Sunstreaker stare at Fireflight for several long seconds, then let out a slightly choked noise. “You’re trying to kill me,” he said faintly. “You are.” The hand still down between them twitched and he nodded. “Whatever you want.”

“And you’ve got to stop saying that or I’m not going to let you out this berth,” Fireflight warned him. “Thank you.” He sat up, shifting his hips, pulling his spike free and his optics dropped down to watch Sunstreaker’s valve. It cycled shut almost immediately, but that didn’t stop the disappointed noise from Sunstreaker as Fireflight pulled out. He made to sit up and immediately brought a hand to his pelvic array, twitching a little more.

“Primus I can still feel you, it’s so weird and so good.” He looked up at Fireflight, his dimmed optics belying his fatigue. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“I think we’d both be missed.” Fireflight crawled back in closer, his own interface array closing, lying down beside Sunstreaker. “And you'll have to tell me when the feeling’s gone so I can come back again and make sure it lasts longer next time. Now, do you need a ration?”

Sunstreaker’s head dropped back onto the berth with a full-body shiver and a low moan. “You fragging are, you’re trying to kill me.” He tilted his head back at Fireflight and pursed his lips. “Don’t wait too long, that was too good to pass up for extended periods. No, I don’t need a ration, just some rest.” He rolled over onto his front, showing off every curve as he did so with a slightly devious, if tired, grin. “I’ll be ready for you again after that.”

Fireflight groaned before pressing closer to hover his mouth over Sunstreaker’s. “Don’t tempt me or I’ll tie you to this berth for me to have whenever I want.” He pressed a hard, deep kiss to those lips. Sunstreaker made an appreciative noise into Fireflight’s mouth, one hand moving up to cup the side of his face.

The frontliner only broke it off as he felt one of his sub-systems fall into idle mode, and he grinned a little wanly. “Promises promises,” he purred. “Though, my body’s starting to go.” He hesitated, then pressed a little harder to Fireflight’s cheek. “Stay here?”

Fireflight covered the hand on his cheek with his own. “I’m glad you asked, because I really want to.” He pulled it round to his mouth to press a kiss to the palm. “Recharge then and you can consider it a promise if you want.”

Sunstreaker’s smile widened somewhat and he finally allowed the pingings of his systems through to accept them all, setting them off into idle or sleep mode as he powered down for some much-desired recharge and defrag. He let his head to drop onto the berth next to Fireflight and knew no more.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
When Sunstreaker roused himself out of recharge the next morning it was to lethargic systems and an unfamiliar surrounding. He lay on his front, optics dimmed and half-shuttered as he let himself boot up properly, and as more systems came back online the more aware he became of a strut-deep ache throughout a lot of his chassis. That he was on his front wasn’t out of the ordinary - he liked to recharge that way and most of the time was draped across Sideswipe’s chest, as he preferred lying on his back - but that he couldn’t sense Sideswipe anywhere nearby was. Instead another mech was just behind him, half laying over the golden twin, also on their front, and it took a few seconds after registering all of this for the memories of the previous night to come flooding back.

Well, at least he knew where the ache had come from then. Sunstreaker made a vague noise and buried his face into the berth as satisfaction and embarrassment flooded through his frame in equal measure. He could tell now that his body had already begun the absorption process, but it would be a fair while longer before the odd feeling in his valve would dissipate. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever been so submissively _needy_ that he’d given up all control. He wasn’t even sure he ever had.

Four fragging overloads Fireflight had managed to drag out of him. _Four_. No wonder he was still tired and achy, but as he stretched languidly across the berth and started to sit up he couldn’t deny he felt really, really good. His digits brushed one of Fireflight’s wings as he anchored himself into a sitting position against the backboard of the berth, and once settled started doing it again deliberately, gentle touches with an unfamiliarity in their attentions. He’d never interfaced with a flyer before and while he knew there were similarities in sensitivity between wings and doorwings he wasn’t sure how much. He’d just have to learn, Sunstreaker concluded to himself.

As it was he was still trying to process just how much of himself he’d given up last night, and how easily Fireflight could have taken advantage. Instead the Aerialbot had rolled with it, demanding and gentle and caring, and it threw Sunstreaker for a bit of a loop. Still, morning shed a slightly different light on it all, and he found he’d be more than happy to do that again and again and again for as long as Fireflight continued to show the same kind of respect. It wasn’t a respect he was used to, but he was grateful for it all the same.

Lost in his musings it wasn’t until several minutes passed that he realized Fireflight’s blue optics were online and watching him curiously.

“Morning,” said Sunstreaker, bringing his digit off the wing he was playing with and dragging it down Fireflight’s face.

“Morning,” Fireflight returned softly, smiling. “You can touch my wings all you like.” He shifted slightly until he could get his hand up to catch up Sunstreaker’s, pull it round to his mouth to press a kiss to it.

“How sensitive are they?” Sunstreaker asked, turning onto one hip to get his other hand onto the wing in front of him, running down the leading edge inquisitively. “How much can I get away with?”

Fireflight shuddered. “You could overload me with just touching my wings and you? I think you could get away with anything.”

A grin flashed over Sunstreaker’s features briefly. “Really? I’ll keep that in mind for next time, then.” He lifted his hand away from Fireflight’s face then and flexed it. “I’m only asking because I have a very strong grip and sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it.” He caught Fireflight’s optics and lowered his hand again. “I can crush Sideswipe’s armor, I really don’t want to do the same to your wings. Don’t let me hurt you, yeah?”

“I saw you holding the berth last night. I don’t think you would,” Fireflight reassured him. “But yeah, I can’t take that much. You could leave handprints, but nothing more than that. I won’t notice as much in the midst of everything, especially when it’s not my wings or fins, but those I’d react to.”

“As long as I know your limits.” Sunstreaker leaned down to kiss Fireflight briefly, then sat up again with an ex-vent as a strut stretched and reminded him it wasn’t pleased with that fact. He looked down at himself and then grinned wryly. “I absolutely need a touch-up before I go anywhere. Much as I loved last night I’m not walking around the Ark with paint streaks all over me.”

Fireflight glanced over Sunstreaker with a pleased look on his face before pushing himself up until he was sat on his haunches. The yellow was vivid against his white and red paint scheme. “Mmm and what would you say if I said I _would_?”

Sunstreaker snorted. “I’d say that’s your decision, not mine. You’d also be getting a lot of comments, and not all of them nice.” He ran a digit down one of the white stripes decorating his abdomen. “I, however, live for my paint job.”

Fireflight shuffled over closer to Sunstreaker. “Yeah, well, they can say what they like. I know what we did last night, not them.” He pressed a kiss to Sunstreaker’s lips, firm but pulling away a moment later. “I’ll let you patch me up. I know you value your privacy.”

Sunstreaker shook his head slightly, kissed the side of Fireflight’s helm and slid off the berth rather less gracefully than normal. He made his way over to one of the storage cupboards and came away a moment later with a few paints and a couple of brushes. “It’s not that,” he said, “it’s just a lot of mechs are wondering why I accepted your courting and not theirs, what you have that they don’t. I don’t care if they know we interfaced last night, I care more they’ll harass you over it.”

Fireflight brought his legs round until he was sat on the edge of the berth, carefully watching Sunstreaker. “They can _try_ and then they can remember I come with four brothers, with either command status or the ability to bear a grudge like no one else can.” Fireflight chuckled. “I’m not an easy target Sunny and I promise their words mean nothing in comparison to being with you. Alright? So patch me up and let them wonder what it’s like to have your attention.”

“They’re definitely going to wonder when you’re the only one outside of Sides and Ratchet who can call me Sunny and get away with it,” mused Sunstreaker in amusement, holding up a couple of pots next to Fireflight’s red armor and eyeing them critically. He put them both down and held up a couple more, before settling on one and opening it up. He swirled one of the brushes around in it for a long moment to make sure it was thoroughly mixed, then with deft digits began to seamlessly paint over the streaks of yellow and black that covered Fireflight.

Fireflight held still but was smiling softly. “I plan on keeping that one to myself and using it when we’re alone. It definitely brings back certain pleasurable memories.”

“You’ll slip up,” said Sunstreaker with a light laugh. “Especially if you’re... distracted.”

“I’m not sure they’ll notice the name if I’m _that_ distracted,” Fireflight said lowly. “And I would make sure I’m not the only one in that state.”

“I dunno, you’re pretty easily distracted. And not even necessarily by me.” Sunstreaker pulled back and eyed Fireflight’s chassis critically, looking for any faults before moving back to finish the final streaks on the red paint. “I won’t stop you if you want to call me Sunny, I gave you permission and it’s good for whenever.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Fireflight replied, grinning. “And you did give me permission when I was in the middle of giving you an overload. Some might say you weren’t thinking with your CPU at that point.”

“Maybe,” Sunstreaker allowed, optics ticking up briefly to meet Fireflight’s and lips quirking upwards, “but my name is important to me. My full name means something to me, which is why I don’t like it when others shorten it down, especially if they’re deriding me at the same time. Sunbot, Sunflower, Sunshine, they’ve all been used in insults and derogatory ways ever since I was a youngling. I’m not saying that to make you sympathize,” he added, seeing Fireflight starting to frown a little, “I’m telling you because even when I’m high off my frame in an overload when I ask you to call me Sunny, I mean it. Sides is a given, he’s the other half of my spark, and Ratch has earned that right, but everyone else gets Sunstreaker or punched.”

Fireflight reached out to catch Sunstreaker’s arm and pull him closer in, until he was standing between Fireflight’s legs. “Then thank you. I’ll treasure it.” He slid his other hand up to Sunstreaker’s face, cradling it as he leant in to press another kiss to his mouth, lingering this time, taking a long slow moment to kiss him properly.

“Watch the paint,” Sunstreaker mumbled, but there was no force behind the words and he sagged into the kiss, shuttering his optics and reveling in the care of the motion. When he pulled back after a few very long moments with a couple more short, chaste kisses he grinned at Fireflight. “I think I could very much get used to this.”

“Me too,” the flyer replied. “Are you done with me now? Do you need a hand?”

“Nope, still got your white to go.” Sunstreaker brought the red paint back around from where his arms had encircled Fireflight’s shoulders. He turned around then. “Depends, is there any paint on my back?”

Fireflight checked him over before giggling slightly. “Your back no. Your aft on the other hand… and the backs of your legs.”

“Mmm, then yes, you’re going to have to help me out,” Sunstreaker said, turning back around with a slightly mischievous glint in his optics. “A hardship, I’m sure.” He put the lid back on the red paint and stepped out of Fireflight’s hold to grab the white and another brush. “Hold still again.”

Fireflight did as he was bid. “You trust me to do it right? To not mess it up when I get distracted?”

Sunstreaker began painstakingly painting over the remaining scratches and patches of yellow and black, motions sure and even. “Well, no, but I have a feeling you’re going to need the practice. You’ll get better the more you have to do this for me.” He caught Fireflight’s optics and grinned. “More incentive for you, isn’t it?”

“I hardly needed any more incentive,” Fireflight told him. “But I do want you to be happy and I know the better I do, the happier you’ll be so…” The flyer shrugged slightly.

Sunstreaker’s optics dimmed and he pressed a soft kiss to the chestplates in front of him as he carried on patching Fireflight’s paint up. After several more minutes he finally stepped back and looked the flyer up and down, then nodded in satisfaction. “It’ll take about half an hour to properly dry,” he said as he went over to the sink in the room and started to wash the brushes off, “so try not to smudge it.”

When he came back he had a pot of the same bright yellow as the rest of him and a smaller pot of jet black, with clean damp brushes. He opened the yellow first and stirred it thoroughly, then began on his own chest, abdomen and front pelvic and thigh areas, blending the paint out so it didn’t dry patchy or streaky, then handed both pots and brushes to Fireflight once done, a small smile on his face. “Your turn.”

Fireflight slid off the berth to his pedes, smiling. He stepped back from Sunstreaker, tilting his head slightly and made a thoughtful noise. “Access, access.... Bend over for me, spread your legs.”

Sunstreaker deliberately let out a vaguely lewd noise, leaning over the berth with an arched frame, showing off every line and curve as he did as asked. “All you have to do is say.”

“I know,” Fireflight said, voice pitched a little lower than normal. “After all, you obeyed so well last night.” He knelt down behind Sunstreaker, running one clean, damp brush over the curve of his aft. “Let me see… There’s a mark here.” He leant in a press a fleeting kiss to a smudge of white. “And here.” Another kiss to a red streak. “And here.” Another kiss.

“Enjoyed yourself, hmm? Like seeing your marks all over me?” Sunstreaker asked, digits flexing happily.

“I wasn’t entirely joking about tying you down for me to take whenever I wanted,” Fireflight commented. He set the paint on the ground and dipped the brush into it carefully before starting to coat the smudges with the jet black.

“And I wasn’t entirely joking about letting you.” Sunstreaker relaxed a little and kept still as the paintbrush worked over his aft and hips in gentle, unsure motions. He dropped his helm to the berth. “Maybe when we have more time and I’m not on shift in...” He checked his chronometer. “Three hours.”

Fireflight let out a little noise of want. “No, I’d need more than three hours. Three days maybe.”

“Promises, promises.” Sunstreaker’s words from last night came back to him in a rush of satisfaction, and the golden twin’s engine purred softly in response.

“Hold me to them,” Fireflight said, tone serious. “All of them.” He set the black to one side and picked up the yellow, repeating the same gentle touches from before.

“I look forward to it.” He lifted his helm a little and looked over his shoulder at Fireflight, mischief dancing in his smile. “Just don’t expect me to be so submissive all the time. I like getting my own way sometimes.”

Fireflight flashed him a smile. “If you don’t think you were getting your own way last night, you’re mistaken and I have no objections to anything you want to do. At some point I want you to claim my valve as well.”

“With pleasure.”

It was several more minutes before Fireflight straightened and Sunstreaker felt one last brush stroke down the inside of his thighs, and the unmistakable sound of a pot lid being put back on. He lifted himself off the berth as Fireflight stepped away and established himself upright once more before turning to face the flyer. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I think I did alright,” Fireflight said, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe you should give me marks and we’ll see if I can’t improve.”

Sunstreaker moved over to the mirror on one wall and turned around so his back was facing it, craning his head over one shoulder to have a look. He spent a couple of minutes studying the work and then nodded slightly. “Not bad. A bit streaky, but that’ll sort itself out the more you do it, and it’s not quite blended right, but for your first go?” He looked back around at Fireflight and his lips twitched upwards. “I give it a solid 6 and a half. But then, I’m picky.” He walked over and kissed Fireflight. “Nice job.”

Fireflight smiled, pleased and happy. “In comparison to Skydive’s scoring, I aced that test.” He studied Sunstreaker’s face for a moment. “I don’t want to be clingy, but when can I see you again? I don’t think our schedule’s line up.”

“Mmm, I think I’m free properly in a couple of days, I only have a morning shift then, if you’ve got nothing on that afternoon. And I was thinking of taking a drive at the weekend that you’re welcome to join me on.”

“It’s a date,” Fireflight agreed before grinning. “That we both know is a date this time.”

“I enjoyed our last one regardless of whether I knew it was or not. Made my day.” Sunstreaker ran his digits down Fireflight’s arm. “But yeah, it’s a date then. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m a little underfueled, so I’m thinking energon.”

Fireflight curled his digits through Sunstreaker’s. “Sounds good to me, and I’m glad I made your day. I might have annoyed the other Aerials to find me something in driving distance for you.”

“Humans don’t normally interest me,” admitted Sunstreaker, “I find them... weird. But those humans? They get it. They get what art is, what it means, as a medium and to others. Plus they have a lot of crafting we don’t on Cybertron and I think I can take some of their techniques and apply them to what I do.” He started towards the door. “No one’s put that much thought into an outing for me before.”

“Humans are weird but at the same time, kinda cool, but I guess I haven’t really had any other home than Earth, so I feel a little different about it,” Fireflight conceded, following on Sunstreaker’s heels, hands still entwined.

“Whereas I’m homesick for Cybertron. Maybe when this war is over I’ll take you there, there are still some parts that aren’t ravaged by the fighting. Or, there were, anyway.” He side-eyed Fireflight. “I’d like to see that painting a reality.”

“Me too,” Fireflight agreed before leaning in to press a kiss to Sunstreaker’s cheek. “But only if you’re there with me.”

“I’ll be watching,” Sunstreaker said, tightening his grip on Fireflight’s hand briefly. They were silent for a moment until they reached the rec room doors. “I’m kind of envious of your ability to fly sometimes,” he added as the doors swished open. “Sides can, with his jetpack, but I got nothing. Itches under my plating from time to time.”

“We can see if I can carry you, if you want,” Fireflight offered. “I know it’s not quite the same, but we can try.”

“You might not be able to carry me, I weigh a lot more than I look. We could try though, I’d like to see if I could fly.”

Fireflight nodded. They reached the energon dispensers and the flyer took one for Sunstreaker, passing it to him and then one for himself. “We’ll find a way.”

Sunstreaker took his portion wordlessly and then looked around for an empty table, before the realization that almost everyone else present was staring at them swept through him. Expressions were varied but there was enough in the way of surprise or resentment that his tanks twisted a little; he made to step back somewhat, but out of the corner of his optics, to his surprise, he saw Mirage alone at a table who sent a discreet nod to the seats next to him. Grateful for the distraction he took Fireflight’s hand again and made his way over.

“Mirage,” Sunstreaker said, somewhat gratefully as he slid into the seats and allowed Fireflight to settle next to him. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” The spy studied them intently over the top of his energon. “Ignore the peons, Sunstreaker. You both look well.”

“Easier said than done,” replied Sunstreaker, quietly.

“Hey.” Fireflight caught the yellow mech’s attention, squeezing his digits tighter. “I’m here. I’m not looking at anyone else.” He glanced sideways at Mirage. “Sorry.”

“No apologies necessary,” said Mirage dismissively. “That’s my function, remember? To not be seen.” He waved an elegant hand and then set it down on the table in front of him. “Besides, he’s right, Sunstreaker. The only gaze you need to worry about is his.” When Sunstreaker looked up at that the spy chuckled. “Please, give me more credit. You are together, are you not? Then that’s all that need be said.”

“Perhaps.” Sunstreaker looked back at Fireflight. “Doesn’t mean it’s any easier.”

“No, it makes it a little harder, but for me, at least, you’re more than worth it,” Fireflight told him.

“A lot of them are wondering why all of a sudden Sunstreaker decided to accept someone’s courting. Clearly they’re not seeing the whole picture. For what it’s worth,” Mirage said, reaching across and briefly setting a hand on Sunstreaker’s arm, “I think you look good together. You seem more content today.”

Sunstreaker inclined his helm slightly, then tightened his own grip on Fireflight’s hand. “I am.”

“Good.” Mirage looked satisfied with that and got up gracefully from his seat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me gentlemechs I have a briefing to get to in a few minutes. Look after him, won’t you Fireflight?” He left before either of the remaining two mechs could say anything, fading from view as his disruptor engaged. Sunstreaker watched where he’d been for a moment.

“I did two paintings on Cybertron,” he said eventually, “that were my favorites. I didn’t want to sell them, and I didn’t for ages. I was forced to in the end, however, and the same anonymous buyer took them both.” He nodded at where Mirage had vanished. “Turns out he’d bought them, told me not long after we woke up and actually apologized for allowing them to get destroyed when the Towers burned down. He’s... a good mech.”

Fireflight nodded. “I don’t really know him. I think he finds us a bit loud, but I’d like to get to know him because he’s your friend. And you can tell him I’ll look after you. I don’t need telling.”

“Mirage is hard to get to know even for his friends, but the same is usually said for me. So I reckon you’ve got a decent shot. And fair’s fair, if we’re dating then I want to get to know the Aerials better.”

Fireflight laughed. “Oh you might regret that. We’re a handful.”

“Yeah,” Sunstreaker said with a quiet grin, “you most definitely are.”  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
: _So, spill! How did it go?_ :

Sunstreaker glanced over at his brother, who was leaning casually back in his chair with his optics on his station. He opened out his side of the bond so Sideswipe could feel the happiness and sheer _satisfaction_ still roiling around him from the previous night. : _He tried to kill me_ ,: he said brightly. : _It was great._ :

Sideswipe jerked back in his chair with a surprised noise, which almost ended in him toppling over backwards to a concerned look from Trailbreaker.

“Are you alright, Sides?”

“Fine, fine,” the red twin replied hastily, waving a wary Trailbreaker away and turning to stare at Sunstreaker, who looked as frowny as ever but his optics danced with a mischievous light. : _What the frag Sunny?_ :

The yellow frontliner’s expression didn’t change but he started laughing over the bond. : _Not literally you moron._ :

Sideswipe flashed a stroke of annoyance at him. : _Sunny_...:

Sunstreaker’s mental grin was thoroughly unrepentant, and he allowed his twin to briefly feel the ache still lingering through his struts and frame. Sideswipe’s optics widened a fraction as the feeling dissipated and he finally turned around to face his brother properly. : _So it was you I was feeling this morning!_ : he accused, which took Sunstreaker aback ever so slightly, but then the laughter started again, more raucous than before.

: _More than likely, yeah. Unless you’ve been fragging your secret admirer without telling me_.:

: _I don’t even know who it is since you won’t tell me! What the Pit did Fireflight do to you?_ :

: _Made me feel so very, very, very good_ ,: Sunstreaker replied a little lecherously. : _And I’m not telling you because you have to work it out. You had a very good laugh at my expense over Fireflight, now I get to have one at you over this. Fair’s fair, brother dearest_.:

Sideswipe subsided into inaudible grumblings, which didn’t exactly stop Sunstreaker’s laughter. It did wind down eventually though, and after about fifteen minutes the red twin spoke up again, wrapping himself up in the feeling of joy and contentment radiating from Sunstreaker.

: _I’m really happy you found someone, you know. You feel... better. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time_.:

Sunstreaker’s expression finally broke as a small smile appeared on his face. : _Fireflight’s good for me, as weird as it is. I just hope I’m as good for him, I don’t think I have quite as much to offer_.:

: _You have plenty to offer. Besides, it’s not about what you can offer. Fireflight likes_ you, _mood swings and homicidal tendencies included_.: 

: _You think?_ : Sunstreaker looked down at his hands. : _Never would have guessed an Aerialbot, of all mechs, wanted a grounder who’s killed for their own pleasure_.:

: _We didn’t_ ,: said Sideswipe sharply, getting up and surprising Trailbreaker again. He ignored the gray mech, walked over and knelt down in front of his twin. : _Dammit Sunny, you_ know _we didn’t. That was a false pleasure born of being forced to find something to keep us sane and you slagging well know it_.:

: _Doesn’t make us any less culpable_.:

: _Would you do it again?_ :

: _No_.:

: _Then for frag’s sake don’t let that drag you down. This is war, we’re all murderers now. The past doesn’t matter. This is your chance to do something different, so take it. Let Fireflight do this for you, let him help. From the way you’re feeling he’s fantastic for you and I’m not going to let you self-sabotage, alright?_ :

Sunstreaker vented slowly, letting Sideswipe wash through him gratefully. : _Don’t know what I’d do without you_.:

: _Be a trainwreck of a mech I expect_ ,: retorted Sideswipe more genially. : _Now, you done? Go back to being happy, Sunny, suits you much better._ :

Sunstreaker nodded and settled back in his chair. : _I’d like that_.:  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
The twins were many things to many mechs. Split-spark twins who enjoyed wreaking mischievous havoc on unsuspecting mechs, aloof slagafts who only thought about themselves, gladiators of the highest level with a taste for energon, handy aides around the Medbay who knew far more than they should about medical matters, and troublemakers of the highest degree.

They were all true to some extent, but in this war, as part of the Autobots, their first and foremost function was as frontliners. And they were very, very good at it.

However just because they were good at it did not mean they came out of their encounters unscathed. Most of the time they were relatively minor injuries, things that would incapacitate most other mechs but the twins simply shrugged off until Ratchet smacked them with a well-aimed wrench after the fight was over. There were fights, though, where not even the twins could just brush aside their damage, and while it was never fun to be so utterly laid out it wasn’t their first time and it most definitely wouldn’t be their last.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if Devastator hadn’t had such exceptionally bad timing. It was Sideswipe who had been downed first, swept out of the air by a blow from Devastator that had been aimed at one of the Aerialbots keeping Skywarp busy. Trying to anticipate where the Autobot flyer would be Devastator had swiped in a completely unexpected direction where Sideswipe had been jetting up in the perfect trajectory to smash right into Skywarp on his next turn around. It caught Sideswipe squarely across most of his frame and sent him hurtling towards the ground.

The landing would have been jarring, though not overly damaging, but Devastator had noticed the intrusion into his otherwise clever plan and as soon as Sideswipe hit the ground the gestalt reached down, scooped the red twin up, wrenched an arm off as if it were made of paper and tossed him straight into a nearby cliffside. Unfortunately for Sideswipe the cliff was jagged and unforgiving, and the punctures to his armor and underlying structures were more than enough to put him out of action, leaving him to tumble to the bottom of the cliffside in an unconscious, slowly bleeding out heap.

Sunstreaker, never far from his twin anyway, witnessed the whole thing and barely held on to himself when Sideswipe’s pain backlashed into him with extreme force, only stopping once he hit the cliff and fell offline. Abandoning his current position (Prowl be damned) Sunstreaker transformed and started racing over to his fallen brother. Sideswipe’s spark was stable, for now, but with his body weakening Sunstreaker wasn’t sure how long it would remain stable for, which meant he needed to get there and get Sideswipe out before anything else happened. He was frantically calling for Ratchet the second he knew what was happening, but knew he’d get there well before the medic.

Unluckily for Sunstreaker Devastator noticed him. Tunneled as he was in concentration for his twin Sunstreaker briefly forgot one of the most important basics of fighting, but it was just long enough. 

Never turn your attention away from your opponent.

As a result he only noticed Devastator’s hand seconds before it picked him up and he only had time to transform back to root mode to try to get access to his weapons. Devastator took one look at Sunstreaker, snarling and attempting to wrench himself free, and squeezed tightly. It cracked and crumpled armor noisily and as if that wasn’t enough of a message he took the golden twin between both hands and pulled them apart.

On the one hand Sunstreaker wasn’t totally ripped in half, but on the other losing one leg and having the other just about torn off was almost as traumatic an injury. He too went into the cliff, but not as hard as Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker had just enough time online to crawl over to his brother before he too lost his battle with consciousness.

When they both woke up in the Medbay later Sideswipe was still missing his arm and Sunstreaker was now lacking both of his legs, but the major damage and energon loss had been rectified and they were both drugged up on pain blockers. Sunstreaker was also missing a fair amount of his armor, exposing substructure and small sections of protoform that had been temporarily covered with substitute steel until one of the medical team could finish repairing his actual armor.

It was hardly their worst experience, their sparks were still strong and synchronized and that was all that really mattered, but it wasn’t one either of them wanted to repeat and they were never so thankful as in these moments that they were built as tough as they were.

Ratchet cleared them for visitors not long after they woke up, and Prowl had been their first to ask what had happened, having not actually seen the incident, just the aftermath. When they told him he’d mostly sighed and rebuked Sunstreaker for abandoning his position, but in the end Prowl understood that the twins were the most important thing in the world to each other and that wouldn’t change regardless of orders. He couldn’t pretend to know the first thing about twinned sparks, and figured the injuries and subsequent forced berthrest were more than enough of a punishment for Sunstreaker. In the end he let them be and returned to his office to file the official report.

As per usual the twins were on berths right next to each other, Ratchet having learned well before they ever left Cybertron that keeping them separate was just asking for the worst, and the two of them were laid hand in hand, quietly immersed in their bond, when the doors opened and pedesteps rapidly approached the berths. Both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker turned almost as one to see who was intruding into Medbay, and while Fireflight wasn’t that much of a surprise considering that he and Sunstreaker had been together for almost a year now, Air Raid was. The younger Aerial almost skidded to a stop next to Sunstreaker’s berth looking more than a little frazzled, and Sunstreaker couldn’t help the brief chuckle.

“I’m made of stronger stuff than that, ‘Flight, have some faith.”

“It’s not that, it’s… slaggit Sunny, are you sure you’re alright? I saw Devastator grab both of you and I just…” Fireflight very, very carefully ran his hands up Sunstreaker’s arm. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Sunstreaker took one of Fireflight’s hands, catching his optics. “Fireflight, I promise I’m fine. Sides and I have taken worse in the Arenas. It’s never fun, but we’re built this way for a reason.”

“Doesn’t mean it should happen,” Fireflight said, optics darting over the damage again. “I…” He lifted the hand held in Sunstreaker’s to his face, pressing the black to his cheek and shuttering his optics.

Sunstreaker’s face fell slightly, and he tilted into Fireflight’s hand. “Nothing’s taking me away from you so easily, ‘Flight. We’re still here, we’re still fighting. It looks far worse than it is.”

“Sunny’s more worried about his missing paint,” added Sideswipe with a grin. “We’re survivors, little flyer, we always bounce back.”

Fireflight shook his head. “I’m not good enough to do that much painting yet,” he murmured before dropping Sunstreaker’s hand to push closer. The berth wasn’t at the right height for it to be comfortable but it didn’t stop Fireflight climbing on the berth just enough to press his chest to Sunstreaker’s, wrap his arms around his shoulders and press his face into Sunstreaker’s neck. His wings were lifted high above them, trembling.

Sunstreaker gripped Fireflight back, letting his engine rumble gently and stroking along a wing in a comforting gesture. He opened an ultra short-wave comm with the flyer as he pressed a kiss to Fireflight’s helm. - _I’m here, I’m alright, no one’s taking me away from you. It’s okay, ‘Flight. I’m safe, we’re both safe_.-

Air Raid stepped forward enough to lay a hand in the center of Fireflight’s back and made optic contact with Sunstreaker, his expression clearly telling the frontliner not to mess this up and to take care of his brother. His gaze turned to his brother with a frown.

“Go away ‘Raid,” Fireflight muttered, not letting go. He tuned into the same wavelength. - _I won’t ask you to not get hurt, or anything else cause I know that doesn’t work in war, but try to be more careful. Please? I… I nearly flew into Devastator’s face just to try to hurt him. I don’t think well when someone I care about is hurt_.-

- _If it helps, I wasn’t trying to get into trouble for once, I was going to stabilize my twin_.- Sunstreaker shuttered his optics. - _I took my optic off my opponent. It was an amateur move and it should never have happened, I’m... sorry I worried you so much_.- The hand on Fireflight’s wing flattened across it. - _I’m glad you didn’t. You’re not built like us and Devastator isn’t a mech to be played with so easily. You could have been killed if you tried_.-

Sideswipe watched his brother and Fireflight for a moment. He could tell they were talking from the way the bond wavered around but not what they were saying. Instead he nudged at Air Raid carefully with a pede to get his attention. “Don’t worry about the Sunbot, ‘Raid, he won’t hurt Fireflight. Kid’s become too much of an anchor for him and Sunny’s a lot more empathetic than most give him credit for.”

- _He can’t catch us. Normally. But like that_ …- Fireflight vented softly. - _I’m going to ask Ratchet how long I’m allowed to stay. I need to be able to touch you. I get clingy. I’m sorry_.-

Air Raid stepped back from the pair of mechs to talk to Sideswipe properly. “And Flight’s a lot more sensitive than most mechs realize. He’s our emotional barometer for the team. If he's not happy, something is wrong with someone else.” Air Raid crossed his arms over his chest as he took Sideswipe in. “You’ve looked better.”

- _Don’t apologize. Sides and I are even more clingy, and I don’t mind_.- Sunstreaker tightened his grip and kissed Fireflight’s helm again, subsiding into the flyer’s grasp. Fireflight vented again, trying to get closer, wings starting to settle.

Sideswipe smirked at the gesture and then turned his attention fully to Air Raid. “I’ve felt better too, not gonna lie. But the important thing is we’re both alive, and really that’s all we care about in the end. Like Sunny said, we’ve had worse in the Arenas, and back then we didn’t have our own medical miracle-maker to get us back on our pedes.”

“Yeah well, Ratchet better work those miracles of those pretty fast or Flight’s going to mold himself to Sunstreaker’s body,” Air Raid commented with a grin. “And with one brother down, I’m going to have to get my vast attention taken up by someone else. Three brothers just doesn’t cut it.”

Sideswipe laughed. “Normally three brothers would be more than enough, Primus knows I think that with just one.” He lifted his remaining arm and stretched it out to the side. “I mean, I’d offer to help you glue Prowl’s office to the ceiling again, but I’m not really in a fit state yet.”

“The more there are, the more effort it takes just to remember if you’ve fought with one of them recently,” Air Raid replied before smirking. “Well then, you’d better get fixed up soon. I’ve got plenty of ideas for us.”

“Oh trust me, I don’t plan on being in here any longer than I have to,” said Sideswipe wryly. He lowered his hand and laid it on his chest instead. “Don’t tell me too much in here.” He looked around and then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Ratch knows everything and hears all.”

“Does he now?” Air Raid drawled before leaning down to whisper back. “Trust me, he won’t want to hear about these ideas. Just as long as he fixes you back up to your usual handsome, strong self, I think I can take the rest from there.”

“Oh.” Sideswipe’s optics widened at that and he stared at Air Raid as though seeing him for the first time. “Sunny said... really?” The red twin shook himself a little but never took his optics off Air Raid. “Well, in that case, we might be able to come up with something.”

“I look forward to it,” Air Raid grinned, pleased that Sideswipe had cottoned on. “I did wonder if you’d realized I’ve been very receptive to your ideas for a while now.”

“I just figured I’d found someone who liked to get in as much trouble as I do.” Sideswipe pulled his good arm back to prop himself up on it. “And please, give yourself some credit. That ink on Perceptor’s scope thing was simplistic genius.”

“Yeah but I did that with you didn’t I? Not any of the others,” Air Raid pointed out. “And yeah, I like getting into trouble… with the right mech.”

“Well, obviously, I’m the Prankster King of the Autobots.” Sideswipe’s grin fell into a slightly gentler smile. “Well, I guess that’s good to know. But I think I’d rather have this talk when I actually have full control of all of my limbs. You’ll probably enjoy that more.”

Air Raid hummed appreciatively as he cast his gaze down Sideswipe’s body, lingering and deliberate. “Yes I think I might.”

“Oh stop,” laughed Sideswipe, “I’m hardly in my greatest guise, missing limbs and armor can’t be my best look.” He winked at Air Raid. “Have I ever mentioned I have a thing for flyers? Because I absolutely have a thing for flyers.”

“I’ve seen you at your best and I have a very active imagination,” Air Raid smiled, slow and pleased. “I can work with that.”

Fireflight vented out noisily, clearly listening in and spoke up without lifting his head. “‘Raid also has a thing he likes a lot.”

“Don’t spoil it,” Air Raid said, glaring over his shoulder at his brother for a moment.

Sunstreaker chuckled lightly from where he was under Fireflight. “That’s what brothers do, ‘Raid. That’s the whole reason they exist.”

“Hey, I only tormented you for a while,” Sideswipe retorted. “I’m the best big brother and you know it.” He stuck his glossa out at Sunstreaker, who only rolled his optics and sat up a little further to make Fireflight more comfortable.

“Best, worst, same difference.”

- _I’m only not saying what because he’ll draw comparisons to you_.- Fireflight went back to the comm. - _And you both like the same thing. I mean, now you might know too much about ‘Raid, so sorry, but I won’t tell him_.-

“I know that’s what they do,” Air Raid said, shaking his head. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t kill them.”

“Tried that.” Sideswipe thumbed at his twin. “Didn’t work. He’s still here. Can’t get rid of him, the slagger.”

“Oh shut up, bitbrain.” Sunstreaker leaned back a little and looked at Fireflight. - _So, he... knows? He won’t use it against me, will he? You might be down a brother otherwise_.-

- _No, no he doesn’t know. I wouldn’t do that. I just meant that I don’t think I could say anything out loud without it coming out wrong or ‘Raid getting hints over the bond_.- Fireflight lifted his head enough to meet Sunstreaker’s optics and smiled softly. - _I would never betray your trust_.-

- _I know that, ‘Flight, I wasn’t accusing you. It’s just sometimes bonds pick up on things we don’t want them to. I trust you_.- Sunstreaker’s optics dipped down a little. - _I shouldn’t have asked that. Even if he did, I have to trust ‘Raid wouldn’t say anything because he’s your bonded_.-

- _That and I’d never forgive him if he did but no, he wouldn’t say anything. It might be harder to hide in the bond if Sideswipe gets his act together and breaks his CPU_.- Fireflight wiggled up a little to press a kiss to Sunstreaker’s mouth.

- _Sides will be insufferable if he does_.- Sunstreaker smiled into the kiss slightly. - _And I’ll probably know more than I ever wanted to. Don’t ever split your spark, they’ll know too much_.-

Fireflight grinned, pulling back slightly.- _Note made but honestly, you can tell Sideswipe anything you want. I’ve got nothing to hide and somewhat horrifically, ‘Raid will say the same thing, so yeah, you might_.- Fireflight pushed back in to kiss him again.

“Oi! No molesting my patients!”

Ratchet’s voice cracking through the Medbay was quiet, but more than loud enough to make all four mechs jump. The medic was standing by his office door, clearly having just woken out of recharge from the berth in the back of it, with his hands on his hips, and Sideswipe waved with his good hand.

“Hiya Ratch!”

“It’s normally your brother I have to tell off, not you,” said Ratchet, coming over to Fireflight and Sunstreaker. “You,” he added, pointing at the youngest Aerial, “are a bad influence.”

Fireflight shot Sunstreaker a look, a smirk on his face. “I’m a good mech.” He looked up at Ratchet. “I promise.” He didn’t move though.

“So it’s just as well I’m not doing anything then isn’t it?” Air Raid commented, perching one hip on Sideswipe’s berth.

“Oh stuff it, Air Raid, you and your team are terrible when one of you is injured,” Ratchet retorted mildly. “And you, Fireflight, are very much not. You know the rules in this Medbay. You may stay, but stop molesting Sunstreaker.”

“It’s not like he’s making things worse, Ratch,” replied Sunstreaker, tightening his grip. “I feel fine.”

“That’s because you’re stuffed to the gunnels with pain blockers. May I remind you that you currently have exposed protoform? It only needs a small accident.” Ratchet sighed. “You two are welcome to stay for a while more, but be careful and obey the rules.”

“Can I stay _here_?” Fireflight asked, still not moving. “I’ll stay still.”

“The only reason I let the twins do it-” Ratchet began a little hotly, but Sideswipe interrupted him with an easy grin.

“C’mon, Ratch, I’m right here, Air Raid’s right here, we’ll keep an optic on them. It should be us you’re worried about.”

“That’s not helping,” Ratchet snapped, then ex-vented noisily. “Alright, _fine_. But only until visiting hours are over, then I want you two-” he pointed at Fireflight and Air Raid, “-out. Let the twins heal in peace.”

“You got it,” Air Raid agreed, optics watching Fireflight who suspiciously said nothing. He just settled back down into Sunstreaker again. Ratchet noticed too and narrowed his optics at them both.

“I mean it,” he said, “I’ll get Silverbolt in here to drag you out if I have to.” He turned to Sideswipe and Air Raid. “I trust you’ll keep an optic on them. First Aid will be by in a while, Wheeljack should have Sideswipe’s other arm done in a little bit so it’ll need reattaching.”

“Flight just wants contact,” Air Raid commented before glancing at Sideswipe. “I much prefer you with two arms and two hands. So much more _useful_.”

“No pranks for at least a week after you’ve fully healed,” Ratchet ordered, then left the Medbay with a noise that sounded suspiciously like a huff. Sideswipe waited until the CMO was out of audio range and then began sniggering loudly.

“Ahhh, Ratch. We do love him.”

“No pranks for a week,” Air Raid mused. “I suppose we’ll have to think of something to keep you entertained until then.”

“A tragedy,” Sideswipe deadpanned. “Whatever will we do.”

Sunstreaker let go of Fireflight with one of his hands, bringing it back down to Sideswipe. : _See? Open your optics, Sides, that’s all you had to do_.:

: _Says you_ ,: retorted Sideswipe cheerily. : _Just means I have more incentive to get healed up quicker_.:

: _We both do_.: Sunstreaker’s end of the bond surged gently with a warm affection. : _I don’t like scaring him, but it’s nice to have someone who’s worried_.:

: _Yeah_ ,: Sideswipe mused, optics going back to Air Raid and studying him carefully, : _I guess it is_.:  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
The twins were in the Medbay for just over a week and a half before all their limbs were reattached and in perfect working order, and another four days for their armor to be repaired and replaced. After their limbs were back they had been allowed out of the Medbay, but they were on strictly limited duties and under no circumstances allowed outside of the Ark. They spent every night of their recovery in the Medbay for recharge where they were looked after by Ratchet, First Aid, Swoop or Wheeljack, and Fireflight and Air Raid had been daily visitors for the entire duration of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s stay.

Still, as soon as they were given the all clear and put onto light duties for a week before going back to normal active service the two frontliners headed straight for Sideswipe’s brewery to commandeer the berth. They’d barely got settled properly, one facing the other with almost no distance between them, before their chestplates split apart and they sank into a merge gratefully, pleasure at the action of being one again rolling gently through them. Their frames quieted to a very low humming, and they simply basked in togetherness, not really talking but not needing to for their conversations and relaxation.

For them, the feeling of synchronizing their harmonies and just being together was something they could never explain to another mech in a way they’d ever understand; it was vital and visceral and everything in the world to them. And so the twins sat, absorbed and happy and peaceful, never noticing the time go by nor how long they sat there.

Perhaps it was a good thing they were interrupted or they could have remained under for days, but the door to their room swishing open and the abrupt spill of light from the outside hallway into the darkened room and the sudden change in surroundings still twitched their instincts and they drew out of themselves long enough to swing a dual stare at Fireflight standing in the doorway, an apparent multitude of expressions on his face.

“‘Flight,” Sunstreaker murmured, his voice oddly oscillating to how it normally sounded.

“Slag, I am _so_ sorry. I should have rung the chime. I know you gave me the code, but I should ring the chime. Primus, I’m sorry. I knew you weren’t in your other room so I thought you might be here and I shouldn’t have interrupted. I’ll go,” Fireflight babbled, pedes trying to back him out the room even as he continued to stare.

“No,” replied Sunstreaker, almost serenely, “it’s alright. Stay. We should stop soon anyway.”

“You’re sure?” Fireflight asked, pausing before realizing the door was still wide open and stepped inside so it shut behind him. “Because this is really private. I mean I’m honored and I didn’t know you’d be so… beautiful like this.”

“You’re dating my other half,” Sideswipe spoke up then, the same subharmonics lacing through his voice. “We won’t hide this, not from you. It’s a part of us.”

“And necessary.” Sunstreaker lifted a hand towards Fireflight, optics blaring white instead of their usual violet. “Come.”

Fireflight drifted over like he was being pulled by an invisible string. “I didn’t mean you should hide it. I just didn’t know you were ready to share this. This is you.” He slid his hand into Sunstreaker’s.

Sideswipe’s own digits flexed around something and the twins looked at each other with slightly wry matching grins. “This is us,” Sunstreaker agreed. “And I want you to see it. See me.”

“I do,” Fireflight breathed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so... right.”

Sunstreaker’s resulting smile was wide and proud, and Sideswipe brought a hand up to his brother’s cheek as their sparks began to slowly separate, reluctantly, tendrils still clinging until the last second as each half settled back into their respective chambers and several layers of chest armor sealed the orbs away from the rest of the world. The twins sagged a little, and Sideswipe gave Sunstreaker a meaningful look before pressing a kiss to his brother’s forehelm and leaving the room, Sunstreaker watching him go until the door slid shut behind him.

Sunstreaker then turned his attention to Fireflight, his smile having never dimmed. “That’s why I went after Sideswipe. Both of us can stay in the same frame for a while, making it much easier for Ratchet to repair us if one of us is still properly functional.” He squeezed at Fireflight’s hand. “I’m glad you got to see. We don’t do this in front of others. Obvious reasons.”

“I’m really honored you wanted to show me and I would never try and keep you apart. I know you’ll always be closer to him than anyone else,” Fireflight replied softly. He stepped closer again to raise his free hand to Sunstreaker’s face, cupping his cheek.

“Perhaps, but I was sparked with him.” Sunstreaker pulled at Fireflight gently to bring him onto the berth and into Sunstreaker’s lap. “You were a choice, and in a lot of ways that’s more important. And it’s certainly not one I regret making. You’re amazing.”

Fireflight smiled brightly. “Neither do I, not for one second.” He settled more comfortably into Sunstreaker’s lap, stretching his legs out to give his tailfins room before pressing a soft kiss to Sunstreaker’s mouth. “I’ve missed you.”

Sunstreaker hummed lowly. “You’ve been with me every day since I came back online.” He tugged gently at Fireflight’s bottom lip with his denta. “Or did you just miss me being able to hold you like this?”

Fireflight slid his hands around Sunstreaker’s sides. “This, being able to look at you and not see you hurt, the privacy, not having Ratchet tell me to get out or get off you, you being _you_ again,” Fireflight murmured before smiling widely. “And the interfacing.”

“That Ratch let you stay like that shows I was perfectly fine, if a little exposed. If I’d truly been hurt he wouldn’t have let you. But I’ll grant you the privacy was somewhat lacking.” Sunstreaker tiptoed his digittips up Fireflight’s wings, leaning up a little. “Missed that, did you? You’re insatiable.”

“I would have fought to stay there with you had you been worse and I don’t care if you were just missing one plating off your digit, you’d still be hurt and I still wouldn’t like it,” Fireflight told him in no uncertain terms even as his wings shivered. “Like you didn’t miss it too. I’m only insatiable because it’s you.”

“Oh, I did. Missed you a lot, and what you do to me.” Sunstreaker dragged a hand further up Fireflight’s wings until he reached the younger flyer’s face, drawing it down for a series of kisses. “Missed you taking me, filling me up, doing what you wanted.”

“I just want to see you happy, to see you lose yourself in the pleasure I can give you and maybe I get carried away and want to see it over and over,” Fireflight replied between the kisses as they gradually took longer to part. His digits dug in a little as he pulled himself tighter into Sunstreaker’s body. Sunstreaker dipped his digits under a booster and let them wander, plucking at wires and tugging at plating and trailing faint static in their wake.

“Then get carried away. I want your everything.” Sunstreaker pressed kisses along Fireflight’s cheek and down his jawline to his neck cable. “Make me scream for you.”

Fireflight groaned quietly at the touches which grew louder at the words. With Sunstreaker’s head tilted to get at his neck, Fireflight had easy access to the finials and drew the closest one into his mouth. He sucked at the very tip before using his glossa to trace the seams until he was right next to Sunstreaker’s audial. “You’ll scream until your vocalizer gives out,” Fireflight promised roughly, “And I’ll keep making you overload after that.” He bit down on the edge of the finial.

Sunstreaker groaned long and low, jerking a little in Fireflight’s grip and stuttering in his motions. “Yes, ‘Flight’, yes, I want that.” He tilted his finial into Fireflight more and set his denta against the flyer’s neck cables before following it with kisses and a glossa across the marks. “Please.”

Fireflight hissed at the bite, one hand rising to grip the back of Sunstreaker’s helm to hold him still as Fireflight repeated his ministrations on the finial again before pulling his head back. “You’re always so good, you ask so nicely. You’ll beg tonight. Someone tried to take you away from me and that’s not allowed. When you’re hurt it’s because I’ve taken you so much you can’t walk straight.” Fireflight pulled Sunstreaker’s head back to one side to give the other finial the same treatment. His other hand dug into the seam on his back.

“Primus,” Sunstreaker moaned, burying his face into the side of Fireflight’s neck and shivering at the tone. The hand under Fireflight’s booster flexed and scraped down the underside before moving back up and then out across a wing, not especially gentle with how wound up Fireflight’s words were making him and leaving a trail of slight static in their wake. “You’re a tease, you’re such a tease and still trying to kill me.”

“Yet you beg me to,” Fireflight murmured in his audial. “You think I’m teasing?” The flyer smiled, expression heated. The jet engine in his chest came roaring into life and Fireflight kept Sunstreaker pressed to him, his knees rising to help pin him in. Sunstreaker crowded as close as he could get for the vibrations to run right through him, causing fans to whir into like and an answering rumble from his own engine. When the vibrations didn’t stop for several seconds he bucked into Fireflight and let him feel the heat starting to radiate off his frame.

“I think,” said Sunstreaker heatedly into Fireflight’s neck, “you could take me right this instant and I would want more and more. I want to feel you.”

“You would keep my spike locked in your valve day and night if you had your way,” Fireflight replied knowingly before abruptly cutting the engine and pulling away from Sunstreaker, sliding out of his lap. “Show me how ready you are.”

Sunstreaker stared at Fireflight for a long couple of seconds, then shifted back on the berth a little and allowed both his interface array cover to slide back and his valve cover to spiral open. He tipped his head back a little as the air of the room hit his array but he slowly slid a hand down his frame until he reached his port, circling it with a couple of digits and snapping his optics back down to Fireflight’s with a low moan. “Didn’t take you for a voyeur,” he purred.

“Honestly?” Fireflight’s optics were fixed on Sunstreaker’s digits. “I don’t think I’ve got the patience to not touch you for long, but I have plans for your valve and I’m going to do my best to remember them, even if you are incredibly distracting.”

“Good to know.” One of Sunstreaker’s digits sank barely into his valve and it twitched as a slight shiver ran through the rest of the frontliner. “I look forward to these plans of yours.” It slowly, slowly pressed further in until it had vanished up to the knuckle and a low rev of Sunstreaker’s engine followed. His thumb brushed across his node a couple of times, causing hitches in Sunstreaker’s intakes, while his other digits ran around the outside of the valve, teasing at the edge and making the single digit inside twist with the motions.

“Good Sunny, so good,” Fireflight breathed out. “Show me what you like, what you do when you’re alone, thinking about my spike, me taking you, again and again.” He shifted up onto his haunches and laid a hand over his own interface array. “If you’re good enough, I’ll let you have my spike.”

A second digit started sliding in beside the first and Sunstreaker dropped back onto his remaining elbow, optics dimming as a rush of pleasure shot through his systems. He didn’t stop though, and pretty quickly both digits were twisting and curling and pumping in his valve, a whine escaping his vocalizer that he couldn’t stop. “Not as good as your spike,” Sunstreaker gasped, “it’s never the same. Want you.”

“That’s what I want,” Fireflight told him. “Tell me Sunny, tell me how much you need it and I’ll make sure you’ll have it. If you want, I’ll stay buried in you, even as you recharge and when you wake up, my spike will still be filling you up.” Fireflight shifted closer, drawn by the sight and sound, his own systems wanting.

The response at first was a third digit sliding in, none-too-gently this time, beside the first two and starting to stretch and move with them. That wrung a long, loud moan from Sunstreaker who dropped even lower into the berth and hitched a leg up. “Want you, need you, need you so bad ‘Flight, Please, fill me, take me, please.”

Suddenly there was another hand covering Sunstreaker’s as Fireflight crowded in above him. Fireflight slid a digit in alongside Sunstreaker’s, moving with him. “I will, I promise I will. You’re so good Sunny, so good. That’s four now. Can you overload or do you want another? I’m going to take you as you overload, drive you straight into the next one.”

Sunstreaker cried out, hips arching up and into the touches as his engine revved loudly. He pressed his thumb against his node and shuddered, allowing himself to fall entirely back onto the berth. The hand that had been supporting him grasped at the blanket under him instead. “I can take more,” he gasped out. His fans were on full now, whirring frantically and his entire array was hot under his own touch. He could feel the lubrication trickling slowly down his hand and he had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from just babbling.

Fireflight bit at Sunstreaker’s chin. “Let me hear you Sunny. Don’t hold anything back. I love hearing you.” He pushed another digit against the valve lip, feeling how hot and wet it was as well as how tight it was as he slid it in with the other digits. “You feel so good. Look at how well you take it.”

“Feels so good, want you, want you,” Sunstreaker gasped, twisting his digits up and spreading them out. He felt Fireflight’s pressing down instead and then joining his thumb on his node and his plating flared as another rush of heat crested through his frame. “So close, feels so good.” There was another long hard press to Sunstreaker’s node and then his own thumb started circling it, and the feel of Fireflight running another digit around the edge of his valve and pressing at it was just that little too much and his head tipped back onto the berth as he cried out his overload into the form of Fireflight’s name, working himself as his frame shuddered with the surge of energy.

Fireflight pulled his hand and Sunstreaker’s away to push up between Sunstreaker’s thighs, lining himself up and thrusting into the clenching valve. “Yes, Sunny, yes, give it to me.” He settled on his elbows above the yellow mech, hips already working into a rhythm, deliberately giving Sunstreaker no reprieve. “This is what you wanted wasn’t it?”

Sunstreaker keened as he locked up briefly, before wrapping both arms around Fireflight’s shoulders and opening his legs out, vocalizer sticky as the pleasure wracking his frame from his overload just kept going, the unforgiving glide of Fireflight’s spike so overwhelming and utterly delicious. He tried to raise his hips to meet each one of Fireflight’s thrusts, but his body seemed perfectly content to just let it happen as it didn’t really respond the way he wanted. “Yes, Primus, yes, ‘Flight, so good, so good, please harder, please,” Sunstreaker begged, engine thrumming and fans screaming.

Fireflight didn’t increase his pace, keeping himself steady, but did as Sunstreaker wanted, shifting to be able to drive his spike in harder and deeper. “How many times can you overload from my spike Sunny? If I keep fragging you, will you be able to keep overloading? You’re so gorgeous when you lose control.” Fireflight dipped his head down to kiss Sunstreaker, hard, his glossa pressing inside Sunstreaker’s mouth.

Sunstreaker’s arms wrapped tighter around Fireflight’s shoulders, an actual whimper escaping him at his words that was just about lost in the kiss, almost as brutal and unrelenting as Fireflight’s spike. Each time the flyer drove himself home another little noise escaped Sunstreaker only to be swallowed up by Fireflight’s lips and the golden twin was almost overwhelmed with sensation. His valve tightened instinctively around Fireflight and as he felt Fireflight’s engine rev again he could also feel the build-up of another overload creeping up his spinal struts. He broke the kiss but stayed against Fireflight’s lips. “As many times as you want... Primus... so close... let go with me, wanna see, please...”

Fireflight shuddered at the tightening valve around his spike and his hips sped up, spurred on by Sunstreaker’s words. “I’ve got you. I’ll fill you up, again and again, as many times as you need it,” Fireflight promised roughly. He shifted up onto one elbow to get his hand down between them and rubbed at the node. “Give me your overload Sunny.”

The build-up down his spinal struts and in his systems roared to the fore as Sunstreaker overloaded, static arcing between a couple of panels of plating down one of his sides as he pressed up into Fireflight’s frame, valve and legs both clamping down around Fireflight, trying to draw him just that little bit deeper. He could feel his digits leaving a dent in at least one of the flyer’s shoulders but he just couldn’t bring himself to care any as he trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, opening his optics to watch his lover intently.

As soon as Sunstreaker’s overload had hit Fireflight had thrown back his head, his own body chasing its pleasure now. He drove down harder, deeper, faster and cried out Sunstreaker’s name as his own overload hit, flooding the valve with hot transfluid. “Mine,” he gasped out, head coming back down to meet Sunstreaker’s optics. “So perfect and mine. You feel so good Sunny. You make me feel so good.” He lowered himself down, still panting, his own fans whirling noisily. “I’d stay like this forever if I could.”

Sunstreaker’s first attempt at speaking only produced a shot of static and a gasp, so he opted to tug Fireflight down for a long, slow kiss until his systems reset his vocalizer, at which point he pulled away and ran a hand against Fireflight’s cheek, shifting his hips where he could feel the flyer still buried in him and the lubricant and transfluid slowly dripping between them. “You could. I’d want you to. You feel so good, so perfect for me.” He leaned up to pepper more kisses over Fireflight’s face. “Love you. Love you, love this, you’re amazing and mine and I love you.”

Fireflight’s response was instantaneous. He kissed Sunstreaker like he was trying to climb inside him, hands coming up to cradle the back of his head and only pulled back when he needed to vent. “I love you too. Primus, so much Sunny. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long. I’ve nearly said it so many times.” He kissed him again, trying to push closer.

“Only realized properly earlier,” said Sunstreaker breathlessly, his fans still screaming and shivers going through him, “but I do. So much. I want you for mine forever, and more if I can.” He rolled his hips into Fireflight’s. “Want you, need you, love you.”

“I’m yours,” Fireflight promised. “Always and forever, spark and body.” With some effort he shifted a little, hand dropping back down to where they were joined. “I was going to make you feel it tonight because you scared me so much. I can’t lose you. Now? Now I’m going to claim you over and over because you’re _mine_.” Firelight pressed at the node again and traced the edge of Sunstreaker’s valve.

“ _Yes_ ,” Sunstreaker choked out, hands pressing tighter against Fireflight’s shoulders. “Take me, make me yours, show me I’m yours. Fill me.”

“This is mine now. Only mine,” Fireflight told him, digits still playing with where they were joined. “But I promise I’ll keep it filled and claimed so no matter what you can always feel me with you.” Fireflight pressed one digit up against the side of his spike, pushing at the valve edge. “How much can you take Sunny?”

“As much as you can give me,” Sunstreaker hissed, engine revving and leaning up to Fireflight’s lips. “I’m greedy, lover, you know that.”

Fireflight smiled then, heated and pleased. He pushed the digit in alongside his spike, riding it up under the node as he used his thumb on the top and kept a hard, consistent pressure. “You’re so good. Let’s see you take it. Remember you promised me as many overloads as I wanted.” Fireflight shifted his hips and started thrusting again, hard and deep.

Sunstreaker’s voice cut out part way through his cry, fizzling out to static as his frame tensed. He was so, so sensitive now and Fireflight’s spike was more than enough to fill him on the best of days, so feeling the digit working him alongside the spike was almost too much. Certainly the sensations ripping through him were staggering, and he could feel the build up of white noise around his processors even as he tried to find words to praise Fireflight, beg him, but they wouldn’t come, too lost in the haze and thrills running through his systems. Instead he let one of his hands slide shakily down Fireflight’s body, slow and deliberate, coming to rest where he and Fireflight were joined, playing around his own hips and edge of his valve as his optics shuttered.

Fireflight dropped his face closer to press gentle kisses to Sunstreaker’s face, at odds with the heavy movements of his hips. He could feel Sunstreaker’s hand occasionally brush his spike as he moved and rolled his hips more to prolong the contact. The flyer touched his lips to Sunstreaker’s audial to murmur, soft and low, “My gorgeous Sunny, so perfect for me. I’m going to love you every day until the universe dies and I’m going to make sure everyone knows that I have the most loving mech in _my_ arms. I love you Sunny.”

Sunstreaker’s only reply was a wordless keening as his vocalizer still refused to work properly, and he tipped his head to one side to catch Fireflight’s lips again whilst arching up to bring their chestplates into contact and revving his engine hard. He realized his mistake as soon as he started, the vibrations rushing through him, and the result was another topple into overload, viciously sensitized and still being worked brutally by both spike and digit. Waves of energy and pleasure crashed through his systems and left him twitching and lax and beautifully open, static sparking from several sections of his frame now and his valve clenching and jerking spasmodically as Fireflight never slowed, never stopped. 

Fireflight groaned as the static jumped between them and abruptly pulled back onto his haunches. He pulled his digit free, releasing the pressure in a rush so he could grab the back of Sunstreaker’s thighs, push them forward enough to roll his hips up off the berth and pound down into his upturned valve. The force folded Sunstreaker up but Fireflight didn’t relent, his own systems in tune with the other mech, wanting his own overload again. Sunstreaker’s resultant scream was inarticulate, beyond overwhelmed and almost noiseless, unable to move much beyond letting his hands drop either side of his helm on the berth to clutch uselessly at the sheets. He could do little more than just take it, feeling every inch of Fireflight’s spike as their change in position drove him deeper and what had been dripping out of his valve was now running both back in to get caught up in Fireflight’s movements and down his aft and front pelvic plates and it made him feel dirty and used and he loved it. He tried speaking again but once more his vocalizer simply spewed static at them both, so instead he started mouthing ‘I love you’ over and over and over, every time Fireflight buried himself up to the hilt. It was rough and unforgiving and Sunstreaker could feel the beginnings of another overload starting to burn at the base of his spinal struts. He was already almost completely sapped of energy but he just couldn’t get enough of his lover, and so simply parted his legs wider.

“So good, so good for me Sunny. You’re going to overload again for me and when I claim you, you’re going to make sure you don’t spill a drop aren’t you?” Fireflight told him, voice rough and strained. “So tomorrow you’ll still be full of me and you’ll know how much I need you and love you. I’ll always be with you Sunny.” His digits dug into Sunstreaker’s plating as he fought to keep the rhythm for him.

The pinch of pressure on his plating, open and hot and trying to draw cooler air in, made Sunstreaker hiss loudly and tighten his grip on the berth. He shuttered his optics and did a full hard reset of his vocalizer unit, managing to regain at least a little bit of his voice that he knew wouldn’t last long. “After you,” he managed, “love you.”

Fireflight let out a desperate noise, rhythm faltering as his hips jerked down hard, grinding their plating together. His overload hit and he filled Sunstreaker’s upturned valve with transfluid, groaning out his love and praise for the other mech as he clutched at him hard, chin nearly on his own chest to watch Sunstreaker.

The golden twin’s tumble over the edge took the last of both his energy and his voice with it as he screamed Fireflight’s name to the room, muted partway through as his vocal unit gave up entirely. His body fell into a kind of sated numbness through the paralyzing aftershocks, unknowing and totally uncaring whether his body would obey him in any sense as he rode the bliss out, port spasming around Fireflight and the rest of him utterly slack. He unshuttered his optics hazily to look up at the Aerialbot over him, barely focusing, and smiled happily.

Fireflight smiled back at him, free a hand from Sunstreaker’s thigh to gently stroke over his cheek. “Love you so much,” he said softly. He slowly lowered Sunstreaker’s hips so he wasn’t folded in half but kept them raised a little, propped on his knees and stayed buried in his valve. “I’ve got you.” His thumb brushed over Sunstreaker’s lip as he cradled his cheek, watching him ride out his high and slowly come back down again. He didn’t care about his own systems resetting, fans still whirling to dissipate the heat. Sunstreaker’s hazy optics dimmed a little and he took the thumb into his mouth to play with it, somehow dragging up enough processing power and energy to lift one of his hands from its death grip on the berth, setting it against Fireflight’s chestplates for a couple of seconds, smile widening. He then dropped his hand back onto the berth, swirling his glossa around the thumb before releasing it and dropping his optics to where he could see Fireflight inside him, engine rumbling vaguely.

After a minute or so his systems pinged at him that at least his comms unit was working, so in lieu of a broken vocalizer he shuttered his optics and opened a short range wave. - _You broke my voice_.-

Fireflight chuckled. - _Such a shame. You scream so well_.- He ran his free hand down Sunstreaker’s chest, gently stroking at the plating, soothing and calm. - _I wonder if you’ll be able to use it in the morning or whether it’ll be rough and full of static. Mechs will wonder what happened_.-

- _I won’t_ ,- laughed Sunstreaker tiredly. - _It’ll be late afternoon before I can. Primus but I love you_.-

- _I love you too and by the time tomorrow’s done, everyone is going to know it. I can’t hold this back now. I’m going to tell you, no matter who’s listening_.- Fireflight told him. - _Do you need anything?_ -

- _I look forward to the appropriately scandalized expressions_.- Sunstreaker stretched languidly as feeling slowly started to come back to him, but he stuttered and twitched when he shifted his legs. - _No, I’m good. You could always ‘face me into offlining, you know. Might not have enough energy for any more overloads, but yours would certainly do it_.-

- _Maybe another night. I think I could get another overload out of you if I did it right, but I promised I wouldn’t leave_.- Fireflight rolled his hips, pressing in a touch deeper. - _The next one I would have to coax out of you with my mouth. Tonight I want to hold you as you go into recharge_.-

Sunstreaker whimpered silently, lips parting and hands clutching the berth again. - _Like this? You might just have to frag me into recharge if you plan on staying like this_.-

- _You get so disappointed when I pull out though_.- Fireflight commented, smiling widely. - _If I did frag you offline and stayed here and you woke up like this, stuffed full, what would you do?_ -

- _First wonder where I got so lucky_ ,- replied Sunstreaker a little dryly, but there was heat in his words when he continued. - _And then wonder why you weren’t fragging me online too. And then_...- He trailed off and ticked his optics briefly down to their interface arrays and back up again. - _Then I think I’d take you as well_.-

Fireflight groaned, pushing back down to kiss Sunstreaker. - _And if I’m not online before you, you’ve got free reign to do what you like to me_.- He kissed him, slow and deep, his hips rolling to match. - _Whatever you want, I’m yours_.-

- _If I had the energy I’d take you right now_ ,- replied Sunstreaker, dragging a hand up to cup Fireflight’s face as he reveled in the kiss. - _Leave you feeling me, too_.-

“Primus, Sunny…” Fireflight groaned out against his mouth, hips hitching, pace picking up. - _I want that so bad. Want everything about you. I can’t stop_.- He shifted, Sunstreaker’s hips dropping to the berth so Fireflight could press into him more, his own systems protesting at the effort of holding them both up.

- _That’s it, pretty flyer_ ,- Sunstreaker murmured, running his hand down one cheek and up the other. - _Use me again, wanna see you go_.-

Fireflight whined softly, head dropping down onto Sunstreaker’s shoulder as his world centered down to the thrusting of his hips into the wet heat of Sunstreaker’s valve. “Feels so good, I didn’t know this could feel so good…” - _Promise me Sunny. I’ll wake up in the morning and this won’t be a dream. I’ll have you and you’ll love me_.-

- _I’m always going to love you_.- Sunstreaker nudged Fireflight’s face to his and caught him up in a kiss. - _I promise_.- He arched into Fireflight as much as he could and stroked at the top of the wings across the Aerial’s back. - _I’m not going anywhere_.-

Fireflight shuddered under Sunstreaker’s hands. The physical pleasure was making heightened emotions crawl through him unchecked. His hips picked up speed and force, all attempts at finesse abandoned as Fireflight lost hold of that last thread of control and just _took_. Sunstreaker went utterly pliant at that point, systems hollering their approval to the room but unable to draw the energy to get wound up again, his valve back to spasming and clenching around its welcome intruder, still full and wanting more. He watched in hazy fascination as Fireflight’s control simply snapped, soundlessly moaned around the waves of sensation from his well-used port, whined at the sheer possessiveness the Aerialbot was radiating.

- _Overload for me ‘Flight_ ,- he murmured into the comms. - _I want to feel you so much I can’t sit properly for a week_.- The one hand that was still working, still moving, gripped at the leading edge of a wing just enough to leave temporary digit prints. - _Frag me offline_.-

A desperate noise crawled its way out of Fireflight’s vocalizer and he pulled at Sunstreaker, digits digging in to hold on. He lifted his head enough to make optic contact. “If you… if you think it’s going… going to be a week until… I do this again…” He fastened his mouth over the top of one finial, glossa pressing up against it even as his denta scored marks in it. - _I’m going to tie you down, leave you open for me to take until you’re so full you can’t take any more and then I’m going to make you shut your panel and go on patrol and have to take that feeling with you_.- Fireflight’s comm was rough, heated and full of barely controlled passion. 

The overload was sudden and hard. Fireflight’s body locked up, holding him deep within Sunstreaker’s body, scoring lines in his paint and leaving denta marks on his plating. The wave from Fireflight’s overload washed over Sunstreaker and seemed to kick-start some of his systems into their shut-down or low-power modes. He watched, enthralled, at the expression of unbridled ardor that settled into Fireflight’s face and the fierce desire broadcasted all across his demeanor, and squirmed at the feeling of his port so thick with transfluid now he wasn’t sure he could actually hold much more. He raised dimmed optics to Fireflight’s and sent him a tired, impish grin.

- _Not sure you could fill me up that much more. But I certainly won’t say no to the idea, especially if it’s from behind next time_.-

Fireflight nuzzled his face into Sunstreaker’s, littering soft kisses over every inch. - _You’d be so good for me, holding every drop_.- He lifted his head slightly and smiled slowly. “I think that if I’m going to go to all that work of tying you down, legs spread, aft in the air, valve open for me, that I should do a proper job of seeing it through. Though…” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “It sounds like you’re missing a blindfold too. Leave you waiting in anticipation.” Fireflight leant back down again to press another series of kisses to his face, curling one hand under Sunstreaker’s shoulder, the other flexing against his leg.

Sunstreaker only just mustered up the energy for a shudder, but the flash of his optics and the widening of his cheeky grin told Fireflight exactly what he thought of that idea. - _Wouldn’t be waiting long_ ,- he retorted playfully, - _you can’t resist me_.-

- _True_.- Fireflight readily admitted. - _But I’d try for you_.- He shifted, getting a better grip on Sunstreaker’s chassis before pulling them both up into a sitting position, grunting at the effort. His own systems were following Sunstreaker’s fast but he was determined to see Sunstreaker comfortable before recharge took them both. Fireflight ungracefully flopped over backwards onto the berth, cradling Sunstreaker to him until they were sprawled out again, the yellow mech on his front like Fireflight knew he preferred. The extra weight on Fireflight’s wings wasn’t overly pleasant but he was tired enough to ignore it, especially as he was still buried deep within Sunstreaker’s valve.

A quiet ex-vent of air was the only noise Sunstreaker made as Fireflight shifted them, but as he took a peripheral note of how the flyer had arranged them he tapped at Fireflight’s chest. - _Wings_ ,- he murmured, - _don’t crush them, love. Don’t want you sore in the morning_.-

The flyer chuckled. “Fair’s fair. We both know you’ll be sore and I don’t care. You recharge on your front and you want my spike in your valve.” He pressed a kiss to the side of Sunstreaker’s helm. “And I’m sure you’ll make me forget about it in the morning anyway.”

- _Count on it_.- Sunstreaker only forced himself to remain online long enough to reassure himself that Fireflight truly was alright sleeping on his back, then promptly fell deeper into the flyer’s embrace and powered down the rest of his systems, welcoming the recharge that stole over him.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
Sideswipe’s ‘brewery’ wasn’t the most sophisticated piece of engineering aboard the Ark, but it was more than enough for the frontliner’s purposes. Refining energon into high-grade was a simple enough process when broken down, but the difference between simply making high-grade and _crafting_ high-grade was vast. Anyone could make high-grade, but Sideswipe prided himself on being an artist in his own right in his hobby.

Luckily Earth had a lot of the same elements as Cybertron and at least the most popular of refiners and flavorings were pretty readily available. There were a few that he’d have to wait until the accursed war was over and they could go back home before he could get any kind of new supply, but since coming to Earth and being forced into using different materials he’d been experimenting with what combinations worked and what didn’t. He had a little pad that he kept in the brewery that Sunstreaker called his recipe file, and Sideswipe supposed it was, to all intents and purposes, as it held a log of every combination he’d tried so far and the results of each and every one.

He frowned slightly down at his latest attempt, laying innocently on the edge of the table next to his pad, before making a note and putting the tiny cube to one side. Sighing and swinging back around in his chair he took another small cube of standard mid-grade energon to start again with.

Sideswipe was fully aware that his hobby wasn’t technically legal on the Ark, but neither had command bothered him about it. The red frontliner was very good at what he did, and the payout of a morale boost after a good, fun, high-grade laced party far outweighed any rules Sideswipe may or may not have been breaking to make it. And now that Wheeljack and Perceptor had actually managed to set up their own solar refinery for making their own energon the Autobots were no longer rationing nearly as much as they were before and Sideswipe had a lot more leeway to do it.

The sound of the door swishing open behind him startled him, and he turned around once more fully expecting it to be Prowl wanting him for something or other.

“Whatever it was Pro- oh.” Sideswipe blinked as he registered Fireflight in the doorway. “You’re not Prowl. Good, I wasn’t looking forward to having to explain my innocence. What can I do you for?”

“I’m meant to be meeting Sunny later and I thought I’d get here a bit early since he’s normally waiting on me,” Fireflight explained, coming into the room and beelining over to Sideswipe. “I’ve always wanted to ask about this but we’re always too busy for me to remember.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you are,” said Sideswipe mischievously, optics glinting. “Don’t think I don’t notice his aches.” He leaned back in his chair and gestured around. “Well, welcome to my worst kept secret and the most illegal lab in the Ark.”

Fireflight grinned, unrepentant and unembarrassed. “I just do as I’m asked.” He glanced down at the apparatus curiously. “I know you make other energon here but what do you _do_?”

“Simplest terms? Purify the slag out of it. That’s the difference between each of the grades. Low grade has a lot of mineral content and unnecessary or unwanted additives, usually both, and it doesn’t sustain your systems very well. Mid-grade is the standard energon we all drink or use for everyday cooking, and that has a specific mineral level with no additives. We add our own if we need it. High-grade has basically no mineral content or additives, it’s pretty much energon in its purest form.” Sideswipe paused. “Medical-grade is somewhere between mid and high-grade energon but that does have a lot of specific additives and chemicals that negate the overcharging effects.”

Fireflight nodded, taking it in. “So what do you add then? Like if low grade isn’t that great with stuff in it but you put stuff back into mid-grade, you must put particular things in it. I’ve seen Sunny likes cadmium, xenon and tungsten shavings.”

“Depends on your tastes,” Sideswipe shrugged. “I can add things during the refining process to flavor it and make it that much nicer. Sunny’s always really liked the sharper, sour tastes, and if you add xenon during the final stages of purification-” he tapped at one of the larger machines, “-it gives the whole batch a really nice tangy aftertaste. If you’re looking for something sweeter you don’t go with that whole family you go for more of the unstable elements. Nitrogen or fluorine, something like that.”

“Good to know.” Fireflight bent down to look at the tiny cubes. “Where did you learn to do this? Was it before the war on Cybertron? I bet it was different then, what you did.”

“Well before,” murmured Sideswipe. “I was a trader, a merchant, before the war. I mean, gladiator too, but that wasn’t by choice. This was my hobby.” He scooted his chair over to one of the other tables and then scooted right back with a different small cube that was slightly lighter in color. “You look like you enjoy the sweeter things in life, so try this one.” He placed it in front of the young flyer and pursed his lips a little. “There was a guy in Kaon who ran his own place, a little oil house, nothing fancy. Sunny and I would go there sometimes after a fight to just... get away. We got to know him pretty well, was a decent mech. And I can tell you from experience they were a rare breed in Kaon. Anyway, I got to talking to him about how he made all his different flavors and whatnot and he offered to show me his brewery. Which I, of course, jumped on. Several years later he was killed. Freak accident, wasn’t anyone’s fault, but I decided to try out his brewery not long after the shop was closed. Seemed like a waste to let it go, y’know? And he was passionate about what he did. Several thousand years, a few hundred experiments and a twin who was resigned to play crash test dummy for the rest of his life later, and here we are.”

Fireflight had picked up the cube to look at it but had stopped when Sideswipe continued his tale, a smile growing on his face. “I forget you lot are all so old sometimes. Sounds like you did a good thing. I’m not sure I could. Sounds far too complicated to me. Too many things to remember.” He lifted the cube to sniff it, frowning slightly as he tried to place it before shrugging and taking a decent sip. The frown grew after he swallowed. “I think I like it, but what’s the aftertaste? I don’t think I know that.”

Sideswipe laughed at that. “First time I’ve been called old, but compared to you I guess we are. We’re some of the youngest mechs on the Ark though.” He glanced at the cube. “That one... I believe that’s the one I added francium to in the early stages of refinement. Meant to give a bit of a kick to all the sweetness.”

“I think it’s hard to tell sometimes, with the war. No one can be anything but a soldier and your age doesn’t matter then.” Fireflight lifted the cube back up. “I think I like it? It’s the aftertaste I’m not sure about but maybe that’s cause I’m not used to it. What are your favorites? Does Sunny have favorites he doesn’t have as often or can’t have because they aren’t here?”

“It’s okay to not like it,” said Sideswipe with a grin. “I’ll just have to find a combo you do like.” He thought for a minute, then nodded at Fireflight’s cube. “I like my spicy favors the best, so things like francium, barium, arsenic et cetera, but I’m also a bit of a sucker for the sour side of things too. Sunny used to make the most amazing mixers with the high-grade I made, and I think he kind of misses those, but a lot of the ingredients we used for them are only found on Cybertron. Otherwise he’s more than happy with his xenon and tungsten, happily both of which you can get here on Earth.”

Fireflight put the cube back down again. “Well I’d be happy to be a test dummy if you want to spare Sunny but I can’t say I’ll have such a developed palate as he does. It doesn’t surprise me he made amazing mixers. He can do anything.” Fireflight smiled, a personal, private little thing, thoughts clearly wandering.

Sideswipe snorted a laugh then. “Oh my sweet little flyer. Whatever you do, don’t ask him to cook for you, he’ll burn the Ark down.”

“Well, I think I probably would too. I can’t say I’ve tried,” Fireflight said sheepishly. “I don’t think asking him to cook was particularly high up the list.”

“Good. You’ll regret it, trust me. Also, don’t let him take you anywhere new unless he’s been there a few times because he sucks with a nav something horrible, and he can’t budget worth a damn. Not exactly the most silver-glossa’d of mechs either.” Sideswipe shook his head. “The stories I could tell.”

“Is now a bad time to mention I get lost all the time too? And I’ve got even more navigation software,” Fireflight said, looking mildly embarrassed. “And I don’t think I’ve ever had a budget to budget with but I think I’ll argue the silver-glossa thing. He’s very good at being persuasive with me.”

“Yeah, but are you actually capable of telling him ‘no’?” Sideswipe asked in amusement. “Most of the time he’s not particularly articulate and he prefers mechs who say things like they are.” He studied Fireflight for a moment, mock serious, then leaned forwards. “Does that mean we’re going to have to have a search party on standby if you go on a date somewhere neither of you have been before?”

Fireflight ducked his head. “The other Aerials already are. They call it a peril of me flying anywhere.” Then he seemed to remember something and his head came back up. “I can tell him no. I told him not to touch and he didn’t!” At that point Fireflight bit his lip and shook his head. “Sunny told me not to tell you things, that you’d already know too much being his twin.”

“The perils of having a split spark. Your twin knows _everything_. And interfacing doesn’t count,” Sideswipe added, pointing a digit at Fireflight. “You can’t say no to him.”

Fireflight opened his mouth to protest, shut it again before frowning at Sideswipe. “Why not? And anyway, why would I want to tell him no?”

Sideswipe stared at Fireflight before barking out a delighted laugh. “He has you so whipped. I bet you have him wrapped around your little digit too, huh? Never thought I’d see the day.”

Fireflight shrugged. “I love him Sideswipe. I’d do anything for him. I’d _die_ before I let anyone hurt him.”

“I know you do.” Sideswipe leaned forwards and pulled Fireflight into a hug. “Thank you, for making him so happy. His spark’s never felt like this before and it’s only been since you came into his life that it has.”

Fireflight hugged him back hard. “I can’t express what it means to have him so happy, that I can do that for him. I worried he wouldn’t let me show him how much he deserved it.” The flyer pulled back slightly. “Thank you for letting me try. I know you saw long before he did and you didn’t tell me to back off.”

“Sunny’s a big mech, he can look after himself. And honestly I wasn’t sure what he was going to do about you.” His smile softened a little. “I always thought we’d fall for the same mech, like most twins do, but apparently that’s not in our cards. And now he’s got someone who knows him almost as well as I do, which can only be a good thing.”

Fireflight grinned. “Like I told Sunny, I like you, but not like I _love_ him. ‘Raid on the other hand…” Fireflight smirked. “He most definitely _likes_ you.”

“Oh I know,” Sideswipe said happily, patting Fireflight’s arms. “Not sure how we managed that, but I’ll take it. What do your brothers think?”

“They’re happy for me and glad someone else has got to deal with my wandering attention, not just them,” Fireflight replied. “I think everyone thinks we’re snobby, after that whole flyers only thing we went through, but we’ve grown up since then.”

“I’ll say, especially since you've fallen in love with one of the most ornery ground-pounders you’ll ever meet and your brother has the hots for the other one. I’m glad your brothers approve though, Sunny would hate to be a point of contention.”

“They don’t have a choice. I wouldn’t let them come between us,” Fireflight said firmly. “And he’s not ornery. You two have been through so much and he’s got shields up to protect himself and you have to put effort in to get to know him. A lot of mechs don’t bother.” Fireflight shook his head before studying Sideswipe for a moment. “So how is it going with Raid?”

“Good,” Sideswipe replied without hesitation. “He’s a wild card, but that’s how I roll too. He likes that we can fly together, however limited mine is, he’s got a good head on his shoulders and I have yet to find something he won’t try at least once. Now that we know he can carry me, I’m seeing whole new strategies for Jet Judo now.” He leaned back in his chair. “I like him a lot, we fit really well.”

“Sunny’s jealous of that. We’re going to try to see if I can carry him but I’m not as big as ‘Raid. I hope I can give him that,” Fireflight said, frowning. “And ‘Raid’ll try anything twice. We’re trusting you with him. He gets into trouble and doesn’t really have boundaries. He’s not Sunny. I’m not sure he’d know when to stop so you’ll have to look after him.”

“I know,” Sideswipe murmured, spreading his arms. “He’s a reckless idiot. And coming from the Ark’s resident reckless idiot, that’s saying something. But I have no intention of letting him get hurt, through his own folly or mine. Hardly repayment for you looking after Sunny now is it?”

“Not everyone thinks like that in the heat of the moment,” Fireflight reminded him. “And he’s persuasive.”

“And I’m stubborn. Just ask Ratch.” Sideswipe reached out and squeezed one of Fireflight’s hands. “Air Raid will be safe with me, I promise.”

“It’s not that I think he wouldn’t be,” Fireflight said, shaking his head. “It’s more he talks mechs into doing things, they regret it and then blame him, which is totally fair but they don’t trust him again. He pretends he doesn’t care, but he does.”

“When I get into trouble because of my own stupidity, I have no one to blame but myself. No matter how many times I try to pin it on Sunshine. If I do end up getting dragged into stupid stunts one of two things will happen. One is, we either don’t get caught, regret it and laugh about what morons we are, or we get caught, tossed in the brig and we laugh at the look on Prowl’s face. I’m not gonna blame ‘Raid for my inability to stay out of trouble.” Sideswipe folded his hands into his own lap. “I intend to look after him. I like him.”

Fireflight smiled, wide and pleased. “Thank you. Don’t tell him too much. He’ll be so annoying about it, especially now you’ve ‘faced his CPU out.”

Sideswipe’s grin was pure mischief. “But that’s what brothers are for!”

“Yeah, but remember he’s got four, not just the one,” Fireflight pointed out. “And you’ve met Slingshot and his grudge holding ability.” Fireflight matched the grin. “And do you want to bet Sunny can say no to me?”

Sideswipe snorted and shook his head. “Oh I doubt it. Like I said, you pretty much have him wrapped around your little digit. I think you’ll just have to say ‘jump’ and he’ll ask ‘how high’.”

“And yet you’d take us all on,” Fireflight laughed. “I’m not surprised ‘Raid likes you.”

“You know me, I like a challenge,” Sideswipe winked. He clapped his hands together and stood up. “Now, speaking of challenges, shall we see if we can find you a combo you like?”  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
Normally when Sunstreaker got his energon by himself he tried to keep it within the times that he knew there wouldn’t be too many mechs around. It made it far easier to get a table or an easychair to himself and not have to worry too much about interacting with most of the mechs in the Ark or overhearing the snide, petty comments. Today wasn’t his day particularly though, and while he managed to get into the rec room and find an empty table he knew that the place would start to fill up pretty quickly as one of the peak times was nearly upon them. Still, he’d suffered through it before and would again no doubt, so instead of worrying about it too much he drew himself what he needed and chose an empty table near the back of the room.

Sure enough about five minutes later mechs started to trickle in at a steady, fast rate until his table was about the only one that had less than five mechs sat at it. A figure slid into the seat opposite, and he looked up from studying his energon ready for whatever verbal smackdown was about to happen, only to be pulled up in slight surprise as he registered Hound, who was smiling genially at him over the top of his own cube.

“See anything interesting in the depths of your energon? You were studying it pretty hard.”

Sunstreaker sighed, internally thankful it wasn’t one of the more problem mechs. While they didn’t run in the same circles Hound was ready enough with a kind word or patient audial. “Trying to perfect my ‘frag off’ vibes.”

Hound laughed at that. “Needs more work,” he said sagely, “they felt more like confusion vibes.”

Sunstreaker tried to glare but it was half-sparked at best. He had been a bit lost in thought. “I thought you were scheduled for patrol.”

“I was, but I got swapped out. Prowl has something else for me, so I’m fueling while I have the chance.” Hound put his chin into his hand, resting his elbow on the table. “Where’s Sideswipe?”

“Guard duty,” Sunstreaker snorted, taking another swig of his energon. “Cliffjumper went off earlier and broke one of Ratch’s machines, so the Hatchet’s in a mood now, and Brawn got tossed in for trying to pick a fight with a human in a bulldozer. He’s having a fantastic time tormenting the both of them.”

“Ah.” The scout tried to hide his grin but wasn’t entirely successful. “Yeah, I can imagine he is. As if he doesn’t do that often enough.”

“Not nearly.” Sunstreaker opened his mouth to continue but was interrupted by his name being called and a sudden flurry of wings landing next to him on the bench, a wide grin accompanying the mech who bore them. Automatically Sunstreaker’s arm went around Fireflight’s waist as he blinked a little in surprise. “Well someone’s in a good mood.”

“Well you’re here aren’t you?” Fireflight responded before leaning in to press a kiss to Sunstreaker’s cheek.

“Not sure where else you expected me to be,” Sunstreaker grinned. “C’mon, spill, what’s really got you in such a good mood?”

“We’re all off together tonight,” Fireflight replied, his own hand landing on Sunstreaker’s thigh. “Which hasn’t happened in ages, so we get to have movie night again!”

“Ahh, I see, a happy pile of Aerialbots huh?” Sunstreaker interlaced their digits on his thigh. “No wonder you’re happy.”

“I can think of something better,” Fireflight said, smile changing to a softer one. “Come with me?”

“Oh.” Sunstreaker studied Fireflight for a moment. “Are you sure your brothers won’t mind? I know it’s not often you get to spend time with them like that and we do spend a lot of time together. I don’t want to interrupt.”

“I want to spend time with all of you. I don’t want to have to choose between you.” Fireflight shuffled round on the bench a little more to face Sunstreaker. “And they know I love you. That means I get to invite you to movie night and curl up with you and watch stupid human movies and listen to them all complain about it.”

Sunstreaker sniggered briefly. “So I get to find out who discredits all the bad science - I’m guessing Skydive - who talks through the movie, who hogs all the snacks, who can’t sit still for more than a minute at a time...” Sunstreaker trailed off and squeezed Fireflight’s hand. “I’d like that. What’s the film?”

“I can sit still…” Fireflight protested weakly. He smiled widely when Sunstreaker accepted his invitation. “Er ‘Shot chose this time. Something with a stupid name, like Aliens or something. I don’t know. He said the humans found it scary.”

“Scary huh? Sounds like a good time to me.” His smile turned a little mischievous. “Bet you jump at the jumpscares.”

Fireflight opened his mouth to protest but then grinned. “Will you hold my hand if I do? Keep me safe?”

“Don’t worry,” Sunstreaker laughed, “I’ll keep you safe from all the big scary aliens.” He leaned forwards and gave Fireflight a quick kiss. “I’ll come. What time?”

“Will you now? Aren’t you technically a big scary alien? Who’s going to keep me safe from you tonight?” Fireflight asked, pushing a little closer. “I’m on the latest shift. I’ll comm you when I’m done and see you there?”

“No one.” Sunstreaker nudged at Fireflight. “Obviously. I’m gonna sneak into your room tonight and maul you like the big, bad, scary alien I am.” Taking another drink of his energon Sunstreaker nodded. “Sounds good. It’s a date.”

Fireflight shivered lightly. “Promise?” he asked lowly.

“Only because I love you and I know you love it.” Sunstreaker drained the last bit of his energon and leaned back in his seat.

Hound, who up until this point had remained silent and was not at all put off at being ignored over Sunstreaker’s personal little soap, started snickering lightly, and held up a hand when Sunstreaker turned to him with a raised optic ridge.

“What? You’re sweet together, don’t give me that look.”

“Don’t go spreading it around.”

“Too late for that.” Hound discreetly thumbed off to the side behind his energon and Sunstreaker was abruptly aware of how much quieter the rec room had gotten all of a sudden. He groaned and smacked his forehelm on the table in front of him.

“What am I, a soulless cryptid?” He demanded as he raised his head again.

“Well...”

“Don’t,” Sunstreaker retorted, though without malice, and pointed a digit at Hound, who mimed muting himself and settled back with an even bigger grin. The golden twin rolled his optics and checked his chronometer, then scooched Fireflight out and off the bench and himself so he could get up. “Well, unlike you I’ve got patrol in a little bit so I’d better head out,” he continued, raising their interlinked digits. “So comm me and I’ll head round.”

Fireflight nodded before stepping in closer so he couldn’t be overheard. “I know they’re watching but I really want to kiss you goodbye, _properly_. I’m not pushing but I know they make you feel uncomfortable.”

Sunstreaker was silent for a second, then nodded slowly. “Just... just a quick one. I don’t need to be stared at more than I already am.”

“Optics on me then,” Fireflight whispered before he pressed a gentle kiss to Sunstreaker’s lips. He didn’t linger but there was no doubt to the feelings behind it. Sunstreaker couldn’t help the small smile that curved his lips up and he squeezed the hand he was holding.

“Love you. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Love you too. I’m looking forward to it,” Fireflight told him with a grin.

Sunstreaker sent him a wink and reluctantly pulled away from Fireflight. He left the rec room, doing his damndest to ignore the optics he could feel on his back and the whispers that followed him out, shaking it off and heading for the handover area at the Ark entrance to wait for Beachcomber so they could start their patrol.

By the time final shift had ended Sunstreaker only just managed to squeeze in a trip to the wash racks and a quick polish before Fireflight’s excited comm came through that everyone was setting up for movie night. The frontliner was always filthy after patrol and was glad they’d got back in time that he could get cleaned up first, or he’d have seriously considered asking the Aerials to postpone until he could actually see what color his armor was meant to be.

As it was he didn’t have to, for which he was glad, and he made his way to the Aerialbot quarters armed with a small tin of flavored goodies that Sideswipe, in his ever-loving big brother way, had shoved into his arms before he left their quarters. When he reached the door he pressed the chime and waited for the door to open.

There was a commotion behind the door before Fireflight opened the door with a grin. He had a hand on Air Raid’s face, holding him out of the way. “Hi!” he said, somewhat breathlessly.

Sunstreaker raised an amused optic ridge. “Sorry I’m not Sideswipe,” he grinned at Air Raid. “Hi ‘Flight.”

“He’s just being an idiot,” Fireflight told him, shoving at Air Raid. “Get out the way and let Sunny in already.”

Air Raid did actually get out the way but smirked at the pair of them. “I’ll let you get reacquainted. We all know he’s missed you since, what, three hours ago?” The flyer left them alone, heading further into the room towards the others gathered in the middle around a large sprawling sofa.

Sunstreaker stepped inside and tweaked the tip of a wing gently. “He’s got a point you know.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Fireflight’s lips and then held up the container. “Sides says hi, by the way.”

“What, about missing you?” Fireflight smiled. “Sure.” He covered the container with both hands. “Shush unless you want to get lynched, but it is a good way to buy our approval, so Sideswipe did you a favor.”

“Are you going to stand in the doorway all night or can we get started?” Slingshot said loudly.

Fireflight grinned at Sunstreaker. “You ready for this?”

“For big scary monstrous aliens? Absolutely.” Sunstreaker followed Fireflight to the massive sofa, where Silverbolt greeted him with a wide smile and a cant of his wings. “Who’s sitting where, then?”

Slingshot flopped himself down closest to the screen in the wall, holding the remote in one hand. Fireflight glanced at Silverbolt who nodded at him. “You alright sitting in the middle with me?”

“Whatever’s comfiest for you guys,” Sunstreaker shrugged, and let Fireflight guide him to the sofa. He sat down and opened his arms, fully expecting and receiving an armful of Fireflight, who settled into his side. Sunstreaker nudged the container in Fireflight’s hands questioningly. “They gonna be for dessert then?”

“Nope,” Air Raid replied, stealing them from behind Fireflight’s head.

“Hey! I was going to share!” Fireflight protested. 

“No, you were going to forget you were holding them,” Air Raid told him, sitting down next to Sunstreaker, on the opposite side to Fireflight. Silverbolt sat down next to Fireflight as Air Raid kicked Slingshot, who glared at him but apparently was alright with the unspoken request to move a little until Air Raid had his legs propped up on his brother’s back. Air Raid then threw a goodie at his head, sniggering at Slingshot’s kick in return.

“‘Raid,” Silverbolt said, voice carrying a warning.

“Yeah, yeah.” Air Raid held the box out to Fireflight, Sunstreaker and Silverbolt after taking a goodie himself.

Silverbolt took the box and held it out to Skydive who was still standing beside the sofa. The last Aerial took a goodie with a grin. “We’ve had these before. Sideswipe knows how to bribe us.”

“He’s a very good cook,” said Sunstreaker, unconsciously adjusting himself for Air Raid. “Unlike me. I’m horrible at it. I can do mixers, but that’s about the extent of it.” He gestured at the screen. “So ‘Flight said we were watching something like ‘Aliens’?”

“Yeah, that’s what it’s called,” Slingshot replied. “What a stupid name right? Couldn’t find any films called ‘Humans’.”

“It’s the second one,” Skydive explained, sitting down until he was settled next to Silverbolt, leaning back against the arm of the sofa, legs over Silverbolt’s so he could touch Fireflight with his pedes. “Have you seen the first one? Imaginatively named ‘Alien’.”

“No,” Sunstreaker admitted. “I think they were showing it in the rec room one night, I wanna say, but I don’t go to the rec room movie night so I didn’t see it. Have you?” Sunstreaker tilted his head so he could see Skydive better. “Is it good?”

“It was, which is why we’re trying this one. We watched it in here instead,” Skydive replied. “We weren’t all off duty for that movie night and we prefer it in here. _Some_ of us are noisy watchers.” He glanced at both Slingshot and Air Raid.

“Do you want a recap?” Fireflight asked. “The humans are flying around in space, get a distress call, go to a creepy planet, find some weird organic eggs, which hatch. One gets stuck to a human’s face, it puts a baby in him which bursts out of his chest and then gets really big, really fast and kills everyone apart from one human and a cat. She kills the alien by shoving it into space.”

Sunstreaker blinked, stared at Fireflight for several seconds, then snorted. “That sounds like quite a ride.” He paused. “At least the cat survives.” He stretched out a little and settled back into the sofa. “Alright, plot all caught up, let’s watch some humans get slaughtered.”

“The cat is called Jonesy,” Silverbolt supplied as Slingshot pressed some buttons to dim the lights in the room and then start the film. “The Alien has two faces and has acid for blood.”

“I don’t like the second face,” Fireflight muttered, snuggling down into Sunstreaker, laying his head on his upper chest and shoulder.

The film was perhaps a little slow for Sunstreaker’s taste at the very beginning, but the recap that the lead - Ripley, apparently - gave to the corporate idiots about ten minutes in was detailed enough that, along with Fireflight’s brief summary before the movie started, Sunstreaker had a fair grasp on the overall picture, if not the finer details.

He could feel Air Raid shift next to him and saw him exchange a look with Slingshot when the android character began stabbing the table between one of the marine’s hands, and heard Silverbolt mutter less than a second later a firm, “ _No_ , you two.” Sunstreaker bit his lip to keep from snickering. As soon as one of the privates opened his mouth Skydive shook his head.

“He’s dead.”

A chorus of agreement rippled around the room that Sunstreaker joined in on. It was followed not too long after by a series of sniggers when the marines busted down a door in the complex all fired up only to be faced with a couple of asinine Earth mammals (that Sunstreaker would never care enough to know the name of).

Sunstreaker felt Fireflight’s digits tighten on his arm briefly when the facehugger in a jar suddenly lurched for the human trying to inspect it, but it was quick and he lost most of the tension as quickly as he’d gained it. Slingshot had been relatively talkative up until the marines actually touched down and were starting to explore the compound, at which point he’d started getting quieter and quieter. A sort of excited tautness threaded through the Aerials at the movement tracker going off again, but when it turned out to be only a miniature human there was a thrum of disappointment from all of them, Sunstreaker included. Air Raid had kind of grabbed onto Sunstreaker’s arm when the tracker went off, and while he’d sort of released the arm he hadn’t stopped touching. Slingshot too had started edging closer to the other Aerials, and Sunstreaker was starting to suspect he wasn’t as unaffected by horror movies as he’d suggested before the film started.

As soon as the humans reached what became very quickly apparent was a nest of some kind the atmosphere seemed to ratchet up a few notches. Sunstreaker had to admit it had been a long time since he’d seen a movie that could produce quite this effect, and while he actually kind of relished the ambience of the whole thing it was clear the Aerials were getting uneasy in the kind of way only a good movie could bring out.

Fireflight absolutely tensed up again as soon as the human stuck in the wall opened its eyes and started whispering ‘kill me’, and both he and Slingshot flattened their wings somewhat as Sunstreaker’s first encounter with a chest-burster had him a little wide-opticked and pretty disgusted. “Urgh, _organics_ ,” he muttered under his breath.

Sunstreaker’s first real look at the ‘aliens’ came not long after, and while he classed them under ‘fragging gross’ automatically by virtue of being organic, there was something oddly appealing about the way they looked. They were built to kill, specialized for it, and the golden frontliner appreciated that.

Didn’t mean they were any less gross, though.

As soon as the aliens started unfurling themselves from the walls Slingshot seemed to give up all pretense of not moving towards his brothers and started almost squishing himself into them all. Sunstreaker included. In fact all the Aerialbots had been steadily bunching together as the movie progressed, slowly but surely snuggling up to each other, reaching around to get themselves more comfortable and generally making themselves more readily available for tactile comforts. Oddly enough it didn’t bother Sunstreaker as much as he thought it would. Perhaps it was because he understood how tactual bonds made one, perhaps it was because he’d automatically figured Fireflight’s brothers would run along a similar vein whether they showed it as easily or not, or perhaps it was because they’d been doing it so slowly that he had time to get used to their proximity before they did it again.

Perhaps a combination. Whatever it was his pervading feeling was that it was kind of nice to be included, so he didn’t say anything about it and accepted this more touchy-feely side to the flyers surrounding him.

Gorman’s total inability to effectively lead his unit earned boos from all the Aerials, and Air Raid cheered at the aliens exploding during the transport retreat, once again clutching at Sunstreaker’s arm. When one of the aliens exploded and sprayed one of the marines with acid, however, he piped up properly. “Did we ever settle that debate?”

“What debate?” Sunstreaker tore his optics away from the screen to look at the flyer on his other side, and Air Raid gestured at the screen.

“Yay or nay. Would alien acid affect us?”

“You ever been hit by Acid Storm?” returned Sunstreaker wryly. “It’s a yay for me.”

“Told you,” Skydive said. “Now shush.”

Air Raid almost pouted, but seemed to forget it the next minute as Ripley ran over an alien in the transport and he grinned manically. Everyone, including Sunstreaker, voiced their support of Ripley’s plan to just nuke the place and go home, followed quickly by boos and hisses as Corporate Slagaft decided against it. It was at this point Sunstreaker came to the conclusion he was rather enjoying movie night with the Aerialbots. They were lively and reactive, but not to the point of disruption, and it was nice to see their different personalities shining through even just by how each mech reacted to each scene.

He felt it when Air Raid reached over and poked Fireflight at one of the scenes between Ripley and Hicks, and ignored the round of near-silent snickers from the others. From there it was mostly silent save for the hiss of disapproval from Silverbolt at Burke, until the second of the Hicks and Ripley interactions when Fireflight kind of buried his face briefly into Sunstreaker’s chest with a quick hitch of his wings. Skydive glanced at him and shuffled a little closer and Silverbolt scooched sideways some so they could better surround the young Aerial. Sunstreaker tightened his grip and pressed his cheek to his lover’s helm.

The facehugger and resultant fight for Ripley and the small human caused a ripple of uneasy fascination, but as soon as red lights lit up and the shootout from inside the lab rooms started Air Raid was perked up and watching intently. Sunstreaker could feel the stiller wings born from an eager kind of anticipation. All of them cheered when Burke turned around to find himself face to face with an alien and then promptly booed when the one marine they all seemed to like blew themselves up in the vents. The transport that the android called in had them briefly poking fun at how clunky and unstreamlined and unattractive it was until Skydive hushed them again.

Slingshot in particular seemed to very much not enjoy Ripley and the small human in the heart of the alien nest, as little more than halfway through the scene he was basically cuddled up to everyone as close as he could get. That, however, didn’t stop him from joining in the collective disgusted noises at the egg-laying queen. Sunstreaker shuddered involuntarily. “Organics are so fragging _gross_.”

For this particular scene, at least, no one disagreed with him.

When it wasn’t attached to its repulsive laying tube Sunstreaker found he actually liked the alien queen’s design the best. It seemed to emit something more than the standard alien and the frontliner estimated it to be of a similar size to an average Iaconian mech when pulled up to its full height. The Aerials whooped when the base blew up, and then all of them except for Sunstreaker and Skydive promptly jumped when the android was stabbed through the chest, the former simply unfazed and the latter having realized what was coming as soon as he saw the acid.

Even Sunstreaker winced slightly as the android was ripped in half, perhaps a little too reminiscent of his own fairly recent run-in with Devastator, but all the Aerials erupted into cheers when Ripley came back out in a mech suit and the resultant fight between her and the alien queen had all of them rather riveted. Fireflight _really_ didn’t like the second mouth in these aliens Sunstreaker mused, as his lover’s wings twitched and he turned away when the queen tried to bite Ripley in the mech suit, but applause rang out when the queen was dumped into space rather unceremoniously, in Sunstreaker’s opinion, but most certainly deservedly.

The ending was open-ended and a little unsatisfying, but Sunstreaker couldn’t deny he enjoyed the film, and as the credits rolled and the chatter of cocooned Aerialbots started - because they now were pretty much piled on top of each other and Sunstreaker at this point - he was pretty sure all of them had too.

“Well now I might just have to watch the first one sometime,” he mused out loud, stretching upwards to ease out a couple of kinks in his back. “For an organic race those aliens were designed very well.”

“I don’t think I’d like to meet one,” Fireflight said softly.

“Me neither,” Silverbolt agreed with him. “‘Shot, put the lights back on.”

There was some shuffling at their feet before the lights came back on, but not at their full strength. Skydive gave Slingshot the goodie tin after taking five goodies out and passing them to the rest of the team. Slingshot said nothing but took the rest of the tin readily.

“Hey, Sunstreaker, have you met any aliens?” Air Raid asked suddenly and that got the rest of the team's attention immediately, all of them turning curious optics to the frontliner in their midst.

“Yeah, I’ve met a fair few. Mostly through Sideswipe, Cybertron used to trade with outside species and Sides was never one to turn down an opportunity. Met a couple of Ilxians, they’re organic and actually pretty friendly towards Cybertronians, about as tall as Prowl on average.” Sunstreaker pursed his lips a little. “We used to see Lithones at the docks sometimes, they were tiny, inorganic troublemakers, but not malicious. And Sides and I faced a Tyroxian in the arenas once too; that thing was twice as tall as us, very vicious and _organic_. I almost didn’t want to win because I had to get my blades dirty.” The frontliner made a disgusted face. “It was just as vile as I feared when we finally took that slagger down. I think we had some Symbions watching that match, they liked to come to the Kaon arenas sometimes. I also know that Sides did some dealing with the Voin and the Jabbi-Ko, but I’ve never actually met any of them.”

All the Aerials were staring at him in wonder. Firefight had sat up a little to be able to see his face and was smiling like Sunstreaker had said something so very important. 

"Aren't organics super squishy though?" Slingshot asked, sitting up on his elbows. "I can't imagine them being much of a fight." 

“You would think, but some of them can have armor as thick as ours. Chitin or bone or something equally as asinine. Took Sides and I well over fifteen minutes to take the Tyroxian down. Normally our fights didn’t last that long. Depends how they evolve and what kind of environment they develop in, I think.” Sunstreaker shrugged a little and grinned down at Fireflight. “Who knows, maybe you lot will meet some yourselves when we finally reclaim Cybertron, though whether it’ll be the same species we used to deal with I don’t honestly know.”

"That'd be so cool," Firefight breathed. 

"Let's hope they forgive us for millennia of war and trying to exterminate them," Silverbolt said wryly. "They don't exactly recognize the difference between Autobots and Deceptions." 

“Yeah, we’re going to have a Pit of a time rebuilding after all this. You’ll be glad to know, though, we never came across any aliens that were anything like those,” Sunstreaker added, nodding to the screen where the credits were paused.

"I'd say great but that means we're sharing a planet with a species who have imagined that instead," Skydive commented. 

"Humans are weird," Slingshot muttered. 

“Did you see any good films on Cybertron?” Fireflight asked, turning over more so he could settle his chest against Sunstreaker’s, rather than his side.

“Not that many,” admitted Sunstreaker, shifting automatically to make Fireflight more comfortable and make sure he didn’t dislodge the other Aerials. “Sides and I weren’t huge movie buffs. I know I really liked ‘Divisive’, that was a top-notch action thriller, and ‘Battle Net’ wasn’t far behind. If you like fantasy ‘The Energon of Paladins’ was good, if a bit morbid, ‘Shaula’ was a very underrated horror flick and ‘Star Saber’ was the most popular sci-fi movie series on the planet. Otherwise, considering the vast library of movies out there from the Golden Age I’ve barely seen anything.”

“Do we have any of those in the Ark library?” Air Raid asked. “We could watch one of those next. It’d be your choice anyway.”

There was a general murmur of agreement. Sunstreaker blinked at them.

“My turn? Don’t I go to the back of the queue?”

Nearly all of them shrugged, unbothered. “Doesn’t really matter where in the queue you are,” Skydive explained. “We’ll all still get a turn. We just don’t skip anyone out, regardless of what’s going on.”

“I’m glad you want to come back again,” Fireflight said, grinning up at Sunstreaker who tickled a wing in response.

“If you’re comfortable with having me here then I’m happy to come by for movies. I’ll have to check the database and see what vid files we’ve got.”

Air Raid and Slingshot cheered before Air Raid launched himself at his brother to try and wrestle one more goodie off him. Fireflight ignored the flailing going on over his legs, partly because it also included Silverbolt’s, Sunstreaker’s and mostly because he was so used to it. “Thank you,” he said softly before levering himself up to press a kiss to Sunstreaker’s mouth. “I’m really glad you’re here. You kept me safe from the nasty aliens.”

“Who did I inherit that job from?” Sunstreaker asked with a laugh, but returned the kiss with a couple extra on Fireflight’s cheek just to make sure. “Always,” he added in a lower voice. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Me,” Silverbolt replied with a grin before nudging them both. “Now, are you staying over because the rest of us want to know if we need to turn off our audials.”

Fireflight stuck his glossa out at his brother before glancing at Sunstreaker with a hopeful look on his faceplates. Sunstreaker rolled his optics and pushed at Fireflight.

“As long as nobody minds. As for the audials thing, ask him. He starts it.” He paused. “Most of the time, anyway.”

There was a rush of heated plating from Fireflight and he squirmed, clearly embarrassed. He pressed his face down into Sunstreaker’s chest. “No, guys, stop it. That’s not fair.”

There was some sniggering from the other Aerials and Air Raid leant in closer. “So, what, we ask Sunstreaker instead? You brought him to movie night. He’s one of the family now. No secrets.”

“Don’t be mean,” Fireflight said pathetically.

“You being mean to your brother?” Sunstreaker asked, mock-tutting. “Look at this face. How can you be mean to this face?” He lifted Fireflight’s face off his chest and turned it towards Air Raid gently, lips turning upwards.

“Oh as easily as I suspect Sideswipe is as mean to you,” Air Raid said dismissively. “And we’re not being _mean_. We’re just asking for ‘Flight here to back up your words, like any good mech would do for the significant other in their lives.”

Fireflight stayed passive in Sunstreaker’s grip but turned his optics back to the yellow mech. “Don’t listen, don’t fall for it,” he pleaded.

“Ahh, see, that’s where you might fall down. Fireflight knows my boundaries, so I don’t think you’re gonna get anything out of him.” Sunstreaker smiled softly and leaned down to press a kiss to Fireflight’s lips.

Fireflight melted under Sunstreaker, kissing him back. There was some good natured cheering from the others and Fireflight’s digits tightened on Sunstreaker’s plating. He let out a pleased, if pathetic noise. Sunstreaker left the kiss a moment later with a couple more chaste ones and shook his head lightly.

“Not tonight, I think.” He tipped his head at Silverbolt. “Your audials are safe.”

“Yours might not be,” Silverbolt warned him. “Neighbors already complain about us.” Silverbolt urged Skydive up off the sofa. “But regardless, welcome to the family Sunstreaker. ‘Flight chose well.”

“Do I want to know?” Sunstreaker asked wryly, but dipped his helm slightly in acknowledgement. “Thanks, Silverbolt.”

There was a shout and then both Air Raid and Slingshot fell off the end of the sofa with a thud. Silverbolt just looked at Sunstreaker. “I’m off now. I have an early shift.”

“I do as well,” Skydive agreed. “Good night. ‘Flight might let you up at some point.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, he’s a lot lighter than he looks.” Sunstreaker gave the two retreating Aerialbots a wave from behind Fireflight and then turned to look at Slingshot, who was sitting up glaring daggers at his brother, and Air Raid himself, who was still laid out on the floor with a grin. “Never mind, I found why.”

"Go to berth you two," Fireflight spoke up. " _Please_."

Air Raid sniggered but hauled himself to his pedes and held out a hand to Slingshot, who slapped it away and got to his pedes by himself before stalking off. 

"Have a _good_ night you two," Air Raid smirked, waving as he headed to his own room. 

Fireflight turned to look at Sunstreaker when they'd both disappeared. "I don't think you've carried me anywhere yet. Not sure how I'll react if you do." 

“No?” Sunstreaker started lightly stroking across Fireflight’s wings. “It’d be easy enough, you’re not exactly heavy.”

Fireflight shivered. "You want me to be quiet though.”

“Are you telling me you can’t be? I know you can, ‘Flight.” He pressed a gentle, brief kiss to Fireflight’s lips. “I mean, you didn’t talk through the movie and you haven't said anything when I’ve been painting and you’ve been around.”

"I wasn't touching you when you were painting and during the movie isn't the same and you know it," Fireflight returned in mild protest. That made Sunstreaker chuckle.

“I’m teasing you.” The frontliner slowed his swipes across Fireflight’s wings. “Honestly though, I think I’m just relaxed enough that all I want to do is go into recharge with you.” He winked. “Maybe we’ll see how quiet you can be next time, hmm?”

"Tease me all you want to," Fireflight breathed. "I told you, you can touch me any time you want. I'm just giving you fair warning. After all you have promises to live up to." The flyer leant up to press a kiss to Sunstreaker's mouth before pulling back. "Come to berth with me."

Sunstreaker allowed Fireflight to get off him first, then accepted the hand that was held out and gracefully got to his own pedes. Immediately the flyer plastered himself to Sunstreaker’s side once more and led them both to his quarters where they settled themselves comfortably on the berth. Sunstreaker was on his back this time, allowing Fireflight to drape himself over the frontliner and relax his wings. They locked optics for a moment and then Sunstreaker lifted a hand to trace down Fireflight’s cheek.

“Thanks for inviting me,” he murmured. “I’m glad your brothers approve.”

“How could they not? You’re exactly what I need,” Fireflight told him, love clear in his voice.

“Still, it’s nice to hear it properly.” Sunstreaker stopped his thumb at Fireflight’s lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Fireflight said before pressing a kiss to the thumb which ended with a teasing flick of a glossa and a grin.

“Cheeky,” Sunstreaker retorted, tweaking a wingtip. They didn’t say anything more though, and instead nestled down until they were both cozy and comfortable, and Sunstreaker started to doze as his systems slowed and Fireflight’s gentle hum of low-powered systems permeated the residual space between them.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
The next morning, however, was an entirely different story. Sunstreaker woke up steadily to no alarm and a warm chassis still curled on top of him, fully in recharge and utterly relaxed. It was nice to just lay there for a while and drink in the feeling of Fireflight recharging pretty much on top of him, but eventually a slightly dull ache reminded him why he didn’t normally recharge on his back. Very carefully so as not to wake his lover Sunstreaker slipped out from underneath the Aerial, who protested feebly, unintelligibly, before sinking back down into dreams again.

Sunstreaker stood up and spent a few minutes stretching out his chassis and his back struts until he felt loose-limbed and the ache was gone. He took a couple of minutes to study Fireflight’s room - a little messy that reflected his spontaneous personality and full of little trinkets and objects he obviously found interesting - but inevitably his gaze was drawn back to Fireflight still sprawled across the berth.

The frontliner perched himself next to a hip and simply ran his optics over the frame helm to pede before reaching out with his hands and starting to run his digits over the wingspan in front of him. Fireflight made a pleased, sleepy noise and shifted but otherwise didn’t wake up, so Sunstreaker just kept exploring.

His touches slowly transitioned from feather-light to something more firm, and from there he began to examine the more intricate mechanisms of Fireflight’s wings. He knew how they worked and their purposes and names and things, but he’d only ever really seen them up close because he was in the process of wrenching them off a Decepticon, or aiming for them in the arenas. He’d never had a chance to study them properly, and didn’t think Fireflight would mind all that much if the unconscious encouraging noises were any indication.

So for a while that was what he did, carefully investigating the air brakes and flaps and slats and ailerons and panels and tracing across where he figured the sensory and control lines ran, admiring how smoothly it all worked and went together and appreciating the complexity of it all. He’d probably appreciate it far more watching the Aerials fly now that he had a chance to see how it all came together.

He’d intended to keep going like this to wake Fireflight up with pleasure, but he sabotaged himself a little as he extended out a flap and dragged a digit gently underneath it, trying to work out if the control mechanism for it was electric, hydraulic or sensory. That pulled a low groan from the mech still splayed out on the berth, and Sunstreaker promptly left the wing with a little bit of fear he’d accidentally hurt Fireflight. That was dissuaded though as the flyer shifted a little and his helm came up, dim optics appearing over one shoulder to look at him, sleepy but looking gratified. Sunstreaker ran a digit along the flap he’d pulled out in reply.

“Morning, love.”

“Don’t stop,” Fireflight said, voice still thick with sleep. “Best wake up call ever.” His head plopped back down onto the berth.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Sunstreaker’s digits went back to exploring under the flap again, earning himself another low noise, and he leant forwards to press a kiss to the center of the wing. His other hand ran in slow circles over a section of the other wing he was fairly sure was above a small sensory array. “Maybe I should wake you up like this more often.”

Fireflight made a pleased noise, wings arching into the contact. “Won’t want to get up. Too good.”

Sunstreaker hummed in response, staying with the flap he was examining for a moment longer before shifting along and repeating the process on the next flap, leaving the first one still extended. The hand running circles around panels slowly moved across the expanse to where the booster connected, and one digit started sliding down the seam where the booster met the wing, varying the pressure. A slow smile touched his lips as he felt brief twitches under his ministrations and he moved a little closer so it was easier for him to reach everything. “You’re a work of art,” he said lowly, dragging his digit back up the seam again.

The noise this time was a drawn out groan. Fireflight’s digits tightened against the berth cover and the wings shivered more. He shifted on the berth, pushing up more into the touches, legs spreading. “Sunny…” Fireflight breathed out.

A third flap, one of the two on his other wing, started to receive the same treatment as the first ones; carefully extended, toyed with and then thoroughly examined. He drank in all the little hitches and movements and noises from Fireflight with relish, running his digit back down the seam again until the hand not playing with a flap dipped under the booster, running circles around the attachment points and transformation seams. “I’d love to paint you like this, just starting to get wound up and full of pleasure from your wing assembly.”

“Anything… anything,” Fireflight agreed, nodding against the berth. “Yours to do with as you want.” He shuddered, engine humming into life, vibrations sinking into the berth. “Please, Sunny.”

The fourth and final flap got exactly the same attention, and as Fireflight’s engine rumbled and he whined in response Sunstreaker leaned over a little and started pressing gentle kisses across the top of the booster, right above where his hand was playing with wires and trailing static and scraping polymers. “Please? Please what, love?”

“More,” Fireflight groaned into the berth before turning his head to Sunstreaker slightly. “Please, I’m yours, please, more.” Heat was rising from his plating now, engine note deeper and the wings were trembling under every touch. “No one’s ever… It’s so good.”

Sunstreaker left the final flap with one last caress, straightening and leaving the booster temporarily to a noise of loss so he could reposition himself, climbing onto the berth properly and sitting on the back of Fireflight’s hips. Once settled he turned his attention to the wings and booster in front of him once more, both hands landing on the leading edge of each wing and then dragging firmly down the panels to the still extended flaps and repeating the action a little further along. “Never? Well then. Seems I’ve got my work cut out for me.” Sunstreaker leaned forwards and rested his chest across the booster, allowing his engine to rumble into life and enjoying the vibrations of both his and Fireflight’s engines. “I’d like to overload you just from your wings.”

Fireflight cried out, pushing up into Sunstreaker. “Please _please!_ ” He shuddered, head lifting off the berth as he arched into the vibrations more. Even over the noise of the engines there was a clear click as Fireflight’s interface array cycled open. “Sunny, I want it, want you.”

Sunstreaker tutted slightly and wandered both of his hands to the edge of the booster, running two digits around the rim while the other hand started exploring just inside the nozzle. He moved himself back down Fireflight’s back, peppering kisses wherever he could reach. “Wings first, lover. And do try to keep your hands to yourself for now.”

Fireflight’s digits dug into the berth obediently but he tried to shove up more into Sunstreaker, optics shuttering. His head dropped forward, until the top of his helm hit the berth, somewhat muffling the whines. Without hands on his wings, they strained towards Sunstreaker, pushing at their fullest extension to reach towards him. “Wings...wings… pressure, wind, temperature… _harder_ , please Sunny.”

“Wings? These?” Sunstreaker dropped his hands from the booster and grabbed at one wing edge none too gently and pinched the tip of the other before trailing that hand down to the still-extended flap and dipping in behind it again. The one still on the edge flexed its digits, alternating pressure, and Sunstreaker leaned in to drag his glossa along part of a panel to follow it by a very heated ex-vent.

Fireflight cried out, voice climbing in octaves. The wings trembled but Fireflight held still under Sunstreaker, everything but his hips which hitched up hard enough to sway Sunstreaker for a moment. “I need… need… So good, can’t… I’m yours, please.” The digits scored a line in the berth and Fireflight shook under the effort of keeping his wings where they were. It felt like torment, but it was too good to pull away from.

“Mine,” Sunstreaker growled, running his glossa up a wing and biting at the edge when he reached it, flexing digits tightening at the same time before running down the panels in heavy strokes to their own flap. While one hand stayed teasing just inside the wing under a flap, pressing at the mechanisms that moved it and the more delicate underside of the external structure, the other spent its time instead tugging and stroking and pinching at the flap, gentle enough not to damage but firm enough to absolutely be felt. His mouth worked its way around the top of the wings, biting and kissing and ex-venting air in equal measure, determined to turn the flyer under him into nothing but a puddle of sensation.

Fireflight was squirming under him now, actively sobbing with pleasure, systems roaring, overload hovering on the edge of his processors. “ _Sunny please!_ ” He didn’t know what he wanted but he needed a little something else to overload. He had never had someone touch him like this before and was lost under the sensations. “Want…”

“You’re so beautiful.” Sunstreaker leaned down and pressed himself in a line down Fireflight’s back, revving his engine hard and loud. “Even more when you overload. Do it for me, ‘Flight, show me just how gorgeous you are, show me how lucky I am. _Overload_.”

Fireflight arched up into him, joints locking up as his overload hit and he cried out loudly. Static crawled over his wings, making them jerk in overstimulation and abruptly his arms gave out and he thudded down into the berth, panting and whining. “Sunny… you…” He fumbled a hand back weakly until he found Sunstreaker’s knee next to his hip and just held on.

Sunstreaker sat back a little, smiling and releasing his hold on Fireflight’s wings and dropping his hands to run gentle circles around his hips and waist instead. “Love seeing you overload. You’re gorgeous, worthy of any gallery.” One hand moved to tease around the edge of Fireflight’s interface array. “I do love you.”

Fireflight’s hips hitched up. There was already a trickle of lubricant running from the open valve and the flyer let out a soft whine. “Love you,” he mumbled, still coming down from his high. “Please Sunny. You promised me. Make me yours.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Sunstreaker mused, pressing his hips into Fireflight’s and letting his interface array cover slide away and his spike pressurize against the flyer’s aft. “The big bad mech come to maul you.” He slid his hands down to Fireflight’s valve and ran a digit over it a couple of times before sliding it so very slowly in. He hummed in satisfaction at the tight heat around his digit, using his remaining ones to tease around both the edge of the valve and the edge of the spike cover.

Fireflight shuddered at the words and the feel of the heavy line of heat against his aft. It was broken by the cry at the slide of the digit into his valve and he pushed down, trying to get it deeper but unable to with Sunstreaker’s weight on his hips. His legs spread wider, opening himself up. “Want you. Been wanting you to have me for so long.” He whined abruptly. “I haven’t even seen your spike.”

“Most of the time I prefer my valve, and you use it so well. But sometimes I do feel like having some fun with my spike.” Sunstreaker leaned down a little and carefully slid another digit in next to the first, twisting and stretching and crooking them, sinking them to the knuckle and pulling back out a little only to pump back in again. “Maybe you could suck me off then, you’d get to see it before it spends all its time in your valve making you scream my name.”

Fireflight moaned into the berth at the feel of two digits in his valve, knowing it wouldn’t stop there. “Whatever you want. Whatever you want. Claim me in every way you want. I’m yours.” He clenched down are the digits, groaning at the feeling of them pressing back against the pressure. Systems that hadn’t really settled were making themselves known again and Fireflight knew Sunstreaker would just return the pleasurable torture he had visited upon the yellow mech. Sunstreaker shifted down a bit, keeping up his motions, and started to press kisses along one wing as he began to slowly, slowly, slide a third digit into the valve. He was loving the way it contracted around him and he dimmed his optics as his glossa ran long lines across an expanse of wing. He could feel his spike almost twitch with every noise Fireflight made and it was all he could do to just forgo any preparation and simply press straight into the heat.

However he knew from experience just how pleasurable digits alone could be while giving the other ample prep, so Sunstreaker kept his attention on the valve and the wing in front of him. Fireflight cried out at the press of the third digit, hips pushing down now Sunstreaker’s weight had shifted slightly, forcing it in faster. The wings spread out before Sunstreaker were trembling again and Fireflight pulled his arms up under his chest to be able to use them to push back against Sunstreaker’s movements, working himself onto the digits more, head hung down as he groaned.

Sunstreaker bit his lip slightly as his engine revved watching the gorgeous Aerialbot under him so pliant and wanting. He lifted his head from the wing and pressed his digits into the valve as far as they would go, starting to pump in and out much faster and deeper. “Want another one? Wanna overload on my digits, or wait for my spike?”

Fireflight shuddered, moaning. He shook his head, hands clenching into fists, clearly fighting for the words. “Yours. Your choice, please. I can’t… Want it all.” The overload was close, close enough that another digit would do it, or the first press of Sunstreaker’s spike and Fireflight wanted it but more than that, his urge to please was telling him to make sure that Sunstreaker’s needs were sated.

“Mmm, I think I want your mouth around me first, as delicious as your valve is.” Sunstreaker pressed his thumb against the node of the valve and started to push a fourth digit in, sitting back a little to watch the show, optics invariably falling to where his digits were still working in and out and stretching and twisting inside Fireflight’s port. “Beautiful.”

Fireflight let out a sharp cry of pleasure at the pressure of another digit, a shudder running down his spinal struts. It felt so good, so right and the flyer let himself tumble over the edge, choice made for him. He threw his head back, digits biting down into the berth again. “ _Sunny_!” His valve contracted sharply around the still moving digits, lubricant dripping out past them.

Sunstreaker simply watched and carried on moving his digits through the overload, admiring every taut cable and arched frame section as energy tumbled through Fireflight, pleasure clear as a bell through his wide, trembling wings and bright optics. As the flyer started to slowly come down from his high, Sunstreaker pulled back and took his digits out of Fireflight’s valve. He moved languidly around the berth until he was near his lover’s helm and slowly pulled one of the digits into his own mouth, making a show of cleaning the lubricant off it. “Feeling good, ‘Flight? That’s how you make me feel every time.”

Fireflight watched him, heat in his optics even as he vented hard. He labored to get his knees under his body but managed to kneel up a little and reached out to snag Sunstreaker’s wrist. He pulled his hand to his mouth and sucked in two of the digits still shiny with lubricant, making a low noise around them, optics turned up to watch Sunstreaker.

The golden twin allowed it for a moment, then pulled away and leaned down. “Those,” he said quietly, “were my digits.” He pressed a brutal but brief kiss to Fireflight’s lips. “If you want something to suck on I have a much better suggestion.”

Fireflight’s glossa flicked out over his bottom lip, still tasting himself on it before he dropped his gaze to Sunstreaker’s spike. “I knew it’d be as gorgeous as the rest of you,” he said heatedly. He shuffled himself close enough to swipe his glossa over the very tip, humming, pleased, at the taste, then he pushed forward, letting the spike ride up the outside of his cheek until he could press his mouth to the base. Mouthing round it, he used glossa and denta to trace the very base where it joined the interface array, taking his time to cover every inch of plating in lubricant.

Sunstreaker moaned, long and low. One of his hands came to rest on the side of Fireflight’s helm while the other came back up to his mouth and he started to clean the fourth and last digit off with relish. “That’s it ‘Flight. Make me feel good, get me ready to take you.”

Fireflight couldn’t help the clench of his valve at the words and started working his way up the spike, slowly, inch by inch, making sure that nowhere lay untouched until he was back at the very tip again. He tipped his gaze back up to Sunstreaker’s for a moment. “I’m yours.” Then he opened his mouth and descended over the spike, keeping his lips tight and moving at the same slow pace as he had before.

Sunstreaker gasped, dropping the digit he was still mouthing and tightening the hand on Fireflight’s helm. “‘Flight...” It was a hot, wet heat enveloping him so torturously slow, and it was taking most of his willpower to not just thrust up, taking it all, and instead enjoy the sensations washing through his spike. It was always long enough between using his spike that he forgot just how damned good it felt to have attention on it. “ _Primus_.”

Fireflight reached for Sunstreaker’s other hand, pulling up to rest on his helm as well, nodding a little. That slow descent didn’t stop until Fireflight’s nose was touching Sunstreaker’s base plate where he paused and then let out a pleased hum, pressing his glossa up to the underside of the thick, heavy weight in his mouth. He stopped the vibrations abruptly and instead swallowed around the spike, just the once, before slowly drawing back up it. Sunstreaker moaned and gripped at Fireflight’s helm hard, unconsciously thrusting lightly with his hips to chase the retreating heat before stilling his hips and instead shivering from the unhurried movements of the mouth on his spike and the steady rumbles he could feel of Fireflight’s engine thrumming through his chassis. It felt so good.

“Can’t wait to frag you,” said Sunstreaker breathily. “Valve’s gonna look as pretty as your mouth taking all of me in.”

Fireflight moaned quietly, optics shuttering and let himself sink back down a little bit faster next time, swallowing as he felt the spike slide into his throat. He reached out with his hands to grasp Sunstreaker’s hips, digits digging in to help balance himself, spreading his legs and dipping his back like he was presenting himself to be fragged. Sunstreaker’s optics darkened at the display and this time he deliberately thrust forwards with his hips, making Fireflight take him even faster and not even bothering to try and stifle the noise he made in response. He did it again as Fireflight was bobbing back down once more, a little slower and pushing his spike into the warm cavern of the flyer’s mouth until his baseplates were against Fireflight’s nose. He stayed there for a couple of seconds, keeping a tight grip on his lover’s helm, before releasing and allowing him to move back up again.

“I just wanna take your mouth, use it like you do mine,” Sunstreaker murmured, digits flexing.

Firefight made a pleading noise, nodding as best he could. He tugged with his hands, urging Sunstreaker to follow through with his words. He pulled back until just the tip of the spike was in his mouth before sucking hard. - _I want it. Claim me. Show everyone I'm yours alone now, always and forever_.-

“Mine, to love in every way I can.” Sunstreaker drove his hips forward whilst simultaneously pulling at Fireflight’s helm, burying himself to the hilt before pulling back out again. His first few motions were gentler, making sure that the flyer really could take it, but after the assurances of encouraging noises and lack of adverse reaction he sped up his movements, bringing Fireflight’s lips to his baseplates with every thrust. It was wet and warm and felt so good around his spike, and it brought as many noises out of him as it did Fireflight. He watched with darkened optics as his hard thrusts caused his spike to disappear every time, and as Fireflight seemed about to drag a hand away from where it was clinging to the frontliner’s hips Sunstreaker growled in warning, low and deep.

However Sunstreaker hadn’t used his spike in a long time and the sensations were a little more than he was anticipating. He could feel his hips trembling, the light tremors running through the rest of him and his overload starting in the base of his spinal struts. He gave a particularly loud moan when Fireflight’s denta accidentally scraped his spike and shuttered his optics entirely. “So good...”

Fireflight clung to Sunstreaker, reveling in this new, more possessive side to his love. He had no objection which role to play as he approached both with the need to please. At the louder noise from Sunstreaker, Fireflight let his denta catch every so often, keeping them random, and doing his best to swallow when the spike thrust into his throat. Lubricant was running from the corners of his mouth as he pushed his glossa up against the thick heat. - _Please, Sunny, give it to me. I want to taste you_.-

Sunstreaker managed a couple more thrusts before he overloaded with a loud cry, pressing his spike as deep as it would go into Fireflight’s mouth. The energy that crackled through him was gentler than he expected, but the transfluid he could feel making his lover’s mouth even more wet and sticky was just hot, and his engine revved at the feel. By the time his overload started to dissipate he was hunched over Fireflight’s head a little, hands still pressed tightly to his helm though they weren’t locking the flyer in place. He ex-vented shakily, fans racing. “Your mouth is perfect.”

Fireflight swallowed as rapidly as he could, staying pressed up close to Sunstreaker and milking his spike for everything it would give him, moaning quietly. Some transfluid escaped, sliding down his plating, matching the steady line of lubricant from his valve. He was more than ready for Sunstreaker to claim him again and the empty feeling in his port was clamoring to be filled. The flyer didn’t care what picture he painted, spike in his mouth, aft lifted into the air, valve open and slick. - _I want you so bad Sunny. Please. Take me, fill me up until I can’t remember anything else except the feel of your spike_.-

Sunstreaker’s hand came around to sit under Fireflight’s chin, tilting his face up a little with the spike still in his mouth. He admired the sight for a few seconds then slipped his spike out and replaced it with his lips briefly before moving around the berth to settle himself just behind the Aerial. He slid a digit so easily into the twitching port in front of him, the other hand setting itself just between the lower shoulders and pushing down to press Fireflight’s chest flatter into the berth. He twisted and pumped his digit a couple of times, decided he was satisfied and then brought his spike to Fireflight’s port and slowly started to ease into it. It was tight and wet and hot and seemed to welcome him eagerly and he moaned loudly, so very turned on.

“You feel amazing around me, _Primus_ ,” Sunstreaker gasped. “Is this how I look for you? So needy and open and begging for it?”

“Better,” Fireflight groaned out. “You’re so gorgeous, so good.” He turned his head sideways to be able dip his upper body even lower, pressing up and back into Sunstreaker until his aft hit the black pelvic plates, valve rippling. “Yes, yes, yes,” Fireflight chanted breathlessly. “You feel so big. I want this so much. I need you. Knew you’d fill me up right.” He rolled his hips, still tight into Sunstreaker, moaning as the spike dragged across the valve walls. Sunstreaker used his remaining hand to push Fireflight’s knees further out to the side, opening him up more and allowing his spike to sink that little bit deeper. He stayed there for a moment, completely buried and indulging in just feeling Fireflight, before pulling back out and sliding in once more, slow and gentle.

The frontliner kept up his slower pace at first, but gradually began to get faster as the noises from Fireflight urged him on. It felt amazing, and it took Sunstreaker a moment to realize he was voicing his own approval almost in stereo with Fireflight. The hand that had spread the flyer’s legs open more found its way between them and began to play with Fireflight’s node, brushing and pressing at it alternatively. “You’re beautiful,” Sunstreaker breathed. “Fit me like you were made for me.”

“I was, _I was_ ,” Fireflight agreed, optics shuttering before crying out at the touches to his node. His digits curled into the berth, pilant and willing beneath Sunstreaker except for the motion of his hips, pushing back into every thrust, valve clenching down like it was trying to keep Sunstreaker buried in him forever. “Please Sunny, use me until you can’t stand it any longer. I’m yours.”

“Yeah, you are.” Sunstreaker’s thrusts almost instantly grew harder and faster, calculatingly forceful, chasing the pleasure of drilling into the frame under him and watching his lover ride waves of his own. It was driving him a little crazy and his spike was sending him so many signals and he could feel the energy creeping up in his systems again, building under the clenching heat of Fireflight’s valve. His thumb began tracing the edge of the valve he was pounding into while the digit playing with the node was doing so more insistently now, intent on bringing Fireflight into overload before him. “You feel so _good_ ‘Flight.”

The flyer whimpered at the touches, shuddering. The harder motions had suddenly ramped up Fireflight’s systems. His engine was roaring, vibrations sinking into the berth beneath him, and his wings were trembling. “Sunny… Sunny _please_.” He twisted slightly, head turning, optics searching for Sunstreaker. “ _Please_. I need you. I love you.”

“I love you too, pretty flyer.” Sunstreaker adjusted the angle of his hips slightly, still driving deep and hard and fast, and he leaned over Fireflight’s back to press kisses along the shivering wings. “You gonna overload for me? Show me how amazing you look? Let me see you?” He pressed against the node on the valve hard. “Let me feel you?”

Fireflight screamed, hips bucking sharply and overloaded. His valve tightened like a vice around Sunstreaker’s spike, forcing the overload to drag on and he bit down on one of his digits, squirming under the yellow mech. “ _Please!_ I can’t… can’t…”

Sunstreaker’s own tip over the edge took him a little by surprise, the sudden squeeze around his spike and the energy surging through the mech under him a little too much all at once, and his systems roared to completion while he choked out Fireflight’s name, his spike as deep into the flyer’s valve as it would go as transfluid started to fill it. The sight of Fireflight so full of ecstasy under him was addictive though, and as soon as he was able to move again and his spike stopped pulsing out transfluid he started to thrust once again, more gently this time as he leaned over Fireflight’s back. “Stunning,” he said softly, vocalizer a little staticky. “Absolutely stunning. I’m a lucky mech to get this all to myself.”

Fireflight let out a whine. He pushed up a little with his hands, twisting more to be reach, to press his mouth to Sunstreaker’s. “Only for you,” he whimpered. Whilst it might be more gentle movements now, it still gave him no reprieve and his valve twitched under the assault. Fireflight was sensitive, three overloads in, and he squirmed under Sunstreaker, overstimulated but wanting it nevertheless. And if Sunstreaker wanted him again, Fireflight would never turn him away. The frontliner pushed in, rolled his hips and then pulled out completely with a kiss to Fireflight’s back.

“Turn over, ‘Flight, I want to face you this time. I want you to see how much I love your valve, love you, love making love to you.”

Fireflight groaned but nodded. He had to pull himself away a little to get his legs free before he turned over onto his aft, lifting heated optics to Sunstreaker’s face. Legs spread to slide them either side of Sunstreaker’s, Fireflight pushed himself closer. He lifted a hand to Sunstreaker’s chest, digits hooking in, urging him to come back down, closer. “I love you, I love what you do to me. I have never felt so wanted, so loved.”

“Good.” Sunstreaker lowered himself onto his elbows as he pushed back into Fireflight’s valve, engine revving as the wet heat welcomed him back in with no resistance. “I can’t say I’ve ever really been in this kind of relationship, but I’m glad I’ve been doing it right.” He leaned down and kissed Fireflight, restarting his movements in and out of the flyer’s body, gentle but firm and loving.

Fireflight groaned into the kiss, long and hard before breaking it, but barely pulling away. “I haven’t either and… and I don’t think there’s a guide. You let me see _you_.” He hooked his heels over the back of Sunstreaker’s thighs to keep him close. Sunstreaker’s movements were driving his transfluid deeper into his port and Fireflight shuddered, loving it. There was something about carrying the sensations around for days after that couldn’t be replicated any other way. He slid his hands to Sunstreaker’s sides, digits digging in as he kissed him again, hard.

It was a slower burn that started to build up in Sunstreaker’s systems this time, but no less delicious. He instead reveled in the love and pleasure radiating from the mech under him, swallowing the little moans and noises Fireflight made into their kiss as he kept his thrusts even and deep. He shifted his weight onto one elbow and brought one of his hands down to start drawing mindless patterns across the underside of a wing, digits trailing faint static. “You think you got one more in you?” Sunstreaker murmured against Fireflight’s lips.

The wing twitched under the touches and Fireflight whined softly, digits flexing against Sunstreaker’s plating. “For you, for you, anything,” he promised roughly. “Anything you want, it’s yours. Please _Sunny_ , please.” He dragged his legs up higher, tilting his hips into Sunstreaker’s thrusts to let him in deeper. Sunstreaker made a noise of approval and bent to kiss his lover again, deep and slow, and the hand on the wing started moving down and across until it reached Fireflight’s chestplates, where the digits danced across the invisible seam, still trailing static. After a moment he left the chestplates and went back to the wing, slowly moving down again, still writing unthinking patterns and occasional glyphs. Eventually he reached where they were joined and he adjusted his angle a little before he began playing with Fireflight’s node, smiling a little into the kiss.

Fireflight gasped, back bowing upwards, breaking the kiss. His valve spasmed at the touch to his node and his engine roared. “Love you, love you,” Fireflight chanted, arms rising to wrap around Sunstreaker’s shoulders, pulling his own off the berth to press them closer together. It was his undoing. The extra vibrations from Sunstreaker’s own engine was the extra thing needed to tip him into his overload and Fireflight sobbed his pleasure into his lover’s shoulder, valve slick with another rush of lubricant.

The young flyer’s overload was Sunstreaker’s undoing as well, the frontliner following him over almost immediately with a crackly, loud moan of Fireflight’s name, emptying himself of transfluid deep into Fireflight’s valve. He fell back onto both elbows and pressed kisses into Fireflight’s neck and jaw as the air around them filled with the pings of heated metal and the sound of fans furiously working to cool the both of them down. 

“Beautiful,” he said softly against Fireflight’s audial. “You’re beautiful.”

Fireflight blindly sought out Sunstreaker’s mouth to kiss him, digits still tight in his plating, even if the strength in his arms gave out on him and his back slumped back against the berth. Somewhere he found the energy to hold his legs wrapped around Sunstreaker’s hips, valve still occasionally tightening around his spike in an unconscious action to keep the transfluid inside him. After a few moments Sunstreaker pulled away from the kiss and looked down at Fireflight, locking optics with a growing smile.

“This is how you make me feel every time,” he said quietly. “Loved.”

"Good," Fireflight responded fiercely but just as softly. "Because it's everything you deserve." He pressed a kiss to Sunstreaker's nose with a grin. "And anytime you want to give your spike some of that love, I'm more than willing." 

“And if you want it, all you have to do is ask.” Sunstreaker gave Fireflight one last kiss before carefully pulling out and sitting upright, hooking his hands under Fireflight’s knees to bring them back to the berth carefully before tracing his digits down the small fins either side of the flyer’s lower legs. “Come sit up, ‘Flight, that can’t be comfortable on your wings.”

Fireflight levered himself up on his hands, making a noise of protest, until he was sat up, legs still sprawled either side of Sunstreaker. “Honestly I hadn’t noticed. Too many other systems shouting. Something about being overworked because _someone_ wouldn’t stop touching.” He grinned up at Sunstreaker. “Any ideas?”

“Who could possibly,” Sunstreaker deadpanned, but his expression didn’t last long and instead he tangled his digits with Fireflight’s. “Still, don’t want your wings aching later when everything’s settled down.” There was a pause for a moment and then Sunstreaker pursed his lips. “Actually, maybe I should have said before, but if you ever do get achy wings or strained back or anything like that go to Sideswipe. You and the others. He does the most amazing massages that’ll take any ache or residual pain away.”

Fireflight giggled. "You know if I tell 'Raid that, he won't share. We'll have to go black market for our massages." There was an audible click as Fireflight shut his interface panel and leaned forward to cup a hand over Sunstreaker's cheek. "Love you." 

“Sides wouldn’t turn you away just because of ‘Raid,” Sunstreaker said with a laugh. “He likes giving them, but it’s not exactly a well-known fact about him.” The golden twin’s spike slowly retreated and after several seconds he too closed his interface panels. He tilted his head into Fireflight’s hand and shuttered his optics. “Love you too, pretty flyer.”

Fireflight smiled softly and then jumped. There was a sudden rush of heat in his plating and he covered his face with his hands. “Oh, Primus, I forgot.”

Sunstreaker narrowed his optics a little even as a small smirk played around the corners of his mouth. “Tell me you didn’t forget to block out your bond.”

“No, no I remembered that,” Fireflight replied, shaking his head. “But we did say no one had to turn off their audials. I didn’t even _try_ to be quiet.” He looked up at Sunstreaker with a guilty grin.

“In all fairness,” Sunstreaker pointed out, “I said they didn’t have to turn off their audials last night. I never said anything about this morning.”

“No, but do you really think they’re going to thank you for that distinction?” Fireflight argued, still smiling. “And you’ll probably only get some mild, public ribbing. I’m going to get it for _days_.”

“My poor Fireflight,” Sunstreaker laughed, pressing a kiss to Fireflight’s helm. “They might not thank me, but they can’t argue it. I’m sure I can find some ammo for you to use on ‘Raid, if you like, Sides isn’t exactly quiet when he should be either.” He gave a little wink. “It’s a brother’s job to be as annoying as possible.”

“I don’t think they want to hear ‘Raid either and honestly, neither do I.” Fireflight shoved at Sunstreaker’s chest playfully. “I already know far too much about my brothers, just like I’m sure you can say the same about Sideswipe. ‘Raid also cares less than I do about being heard.”

“Shame.” Sunstreaker caught Fireflight’s hand against his chestplates. “Maybe next time they’ll learn to read between the lines, hmm?”

“Next time, I think they’ll just shut them off anyway, regardless, or make us leave,” Fireflight admitted. “And…” The flyer smiled softly then, turning his hand over to twine his digits with Sunstreaker’s. “As much as I like showing everyone you chose me, I like keeping you to myself too.”

“Trust me,” Sunstreaker murmured, “you’re the only one who will ever get to see me this way.”

“I know and I can’t express what that means to me,” Fireflight replied.

Sunstreaker didn’t reply verbally, but tugged Fireflight into his lap, buried his face into the flyer’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around him, violet optics shuttering and his systems slowing to their usual hum of activity.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
Battles between the Autobots and Decepticons were sporadic, to say the least. Most of the time it depended on Megatron’s mood or Starscream being Starscream or the Decepticons attempting to be sneaky, failing miserably and the humans messing things up for them. Sometimes there were two or three battles a week, sometimes a month would go by without any hint of Decepticon activity.

Those months Red Alert was almost unbearable to be around due to his exponentially increasing paranoia.

Still Sunstreaker found himself wishing rather fiercely - and certainly not for the first time - that the Autobots would be more proactive than reactive. It went against most of his instincts and training to sit and wait for one’s opponent to make their move, but what Optimus said went, so instead the twins made do with scorching the ground with Decepticon energon instead.

This time, despite Prowl’s “suggestions”, the twins had put themselves on Seeker duty. Menasor had made an unexpected appearance partway through the battle, and Superion had answered the Decepticon gestalt with a roar and a tackle both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe felt through their frames. They could both appreciate the sheer destruction the gestalts were capable of, and it made them feel a little better that the Autobots had an answer to the opposition’s gestalts, even if Defensor wasn’t nearly as fond of picking fights as Superion was.

That meant, however, that the Seekers had pretty much free reign over the sky as the Aerialbots were now indisposed, and thus the twins had gleefully stepped up to the plate to have some fun with their beloved Jet Judo. Their happy whoops of war were almost a harmony to the bellows of Superion and the gestalt had even helped them out (rather unwittingly, Sideswipe thought) by smashing Sunstorm out of the sky right after the red twin let go of him in a scene eerily reminiscent of his own accident with Devastator.

Between them Sideswipe and Sunstreaker took out four of the Seekers harassing the Autobot lines and they’d been about to set their sights on Ramjet or Skywarp - whichever came into range first - when the sound of a gestalt falling out of transformation hit them and both of the twins turned to see Menasor tumbling out of formation back into five very, very disgruntled Stunticons to the tune of Superion’s cry of triumph.

That didn’t last long though, as Motormaster, in all his revenge-fueled fury, managed to snag at one of Superion’s arms and halt his descent to the ground. The arm, Sunstreaker noted with growing dread, that Fireflight made up. He and Sideswipe didn’t even look at each other but they were both immediately hurtling towards Superion, whose yell of victory had turned into shouts of pain and anger as Motormaster unceremoniously and mercilessly began ripping into the limb he was hanging on to. It took a few attempts but Superion did eventually manage to prise Motormaster off and fling him away, but not after significant damage had been done.

By the time the twins reached the Aerialbots, tersely calling for Ratchet over the comms, the young flyers had fallen out of formation and were huddled around their brother, who was offline and bleeding profusely with rents and tears and a leg that hadn’t fully transformed back into root mode with the rest of him.

Silverbolt was already on his knees next to Fireflight, his pained expression that was echoed by the rest of the Aerials beneath their worried visages the biggest visible tell that Fireflight probably hadn’t managed to cut his side of the bond off all the way, and pain was probably bleeding. The twins abruptly appearing next to Silverbolt seemed to startle the Aerialbot leader, but his focus on his gestalt mate snapped back almost immediately even as Sunstreaker began calling Fireflight’s name, looking for any response, as both he and Sideswipe started digging through the armor and open gashes to clamp and splice bleeding lines and remove any dangerous sections of armor and make notes of the major sources of damage for Ratchet when he arrived.

Desperately ignoring the fact that his hands were rapidly becoming stained with his lover’s energon and trying to focus everything on his limited field medicare most of Sunstreaker’s attention tunneled towards Fireflight, only keeping peripherally cognizant of his surroundings and wholly unaware of his low, repeated reassurances to both himself and Fireflight that he’d be fine and to trust him and just hang on.

The spell was broken as Sunstreaker abruptly became conscious of a loud screech of familiar jet engines and he curled on top of Fireflight’s still form as Starscream rained down a hail of fire from his nosecone on all seven mechs. As soon as his pass was done the golden twin’s head snapped up and glared at the Seeker almost dancing in glee in the sky even as he opened up a commline.

- _Change of plans, Ratch, we’re coming to you. Stay where you are._ -

- _Is Fireflight stable?_ \- 

- _Yeah, but I don’t know how long for,_ \- replied Sunstreaker tightly, getting up and carefully bringing Fireflight with him, making sure not to aggravate wounds or open any of the seals. He turned around to the other Aerialbots, who were also following Starscream’s trajectory. “Keep him off me, I’m going to Ratchet,” Sunstreaker said shortly. “Fireflight needs more attention than Sides and I can give him.”

Each Aerial touched Fireflight briefly, surprisingly not arguing before transforming and blasting skywards. Silverbolt was last and he looked up at Sunstreaker. “I know you’ll look after him. We’ll know when he’s online. You, he needs to see.” With that he stepped away, following his teammates to tear into the remaining Seekers and any Stunticons still stupid enough to have lingered. 

Sideswipe watched them streak into the sky, coordinated and dangerous even through the pain and fury, and then looked back down at his twin. “I’m gonna join them,” he said, jetpack flaring to life.

Sunstreaker barely spared him a look before tucking Fireflight into his body and starting to sprint over towards the more sheltered area of the battlefield where he knew Ratchet was. It was a long run, as Superion had been right at the forefront of the front lines, and more than once he heard the roar of jet engines coming straight for him only to be rerouted at the last minute by either a furious Aerialbot or a cackling Sideswipe. He never looked up or stopped moving, trusting that the Aerials knew what they were doing and that Sideswipe would take care of him as he always did, and as a result when he finally reached Ratchet neither he nor Fireflight had any new scratches or dents from their journey over.

Sunstreaker had barely set Fireflight down before Ratchet and Wheeljack were both on the young flyer, working their magic with barely a spare glance for Sunstreaker. That didn’t matter to the frontliner as he stood up and let the two mechs work, instead moving off far enough that they had space but close enough that he could protect them if anything else should come their way. He sent a ping to Silverbolt as the Aerialbot leader streaked by overhead that Fireflight was in Ratchet’s clutches now, and got back a thankful - if terse - acknowledgement.

After both gestalts had gone down the battle was pretty short-lived. With Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s earlier takedowns and now the Aerials out for energon Megatron sounded the retreat about fifteen minutes later, causing Sunstreaker to snort derisively through his tense worry. He only left his guard positioning when Ratchet transformed and Wheeljack requested his help putting Fireflight in the back, and as the ambulance raced off back to the Ark Sunstreaker’s own transformation sequence followed and he tore after Ratchet, determined not to let Fireflight out of his sights.

The CMO didn’t comment when they reached the Medbay, likely realizing that his efforts to get Sunstreaker to leave now would be tantamount to the same futility as if it were Sideswipe in Fireflight’s place. Sunstreaker was infinitely grateful for the medic’s intuition, and he jumped up to sit on one of the empty berths as Ratchet and First Aid wheeled the Aerialbot into surgery.

Granted from what he could tell Fireflight wasn’t in much danger of dying, the loss of energon being the most damning culprit, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be permanent consequences, and it certainly didn’t stop his spark from going cold every time the image flashed through his processors. 

He figured he had a good idea now of what Fireflight felt after he and Sides had been brought back from their tangle with Devastator.

He was there for just over three hours waiting, watching while some of the other Autobots trooped in with various injuries that Swoop, Wheeljack and Hoist all tended to in lieu of Ratchet or First Aid and wordlessly making room for the Aerials when they came in to join him in his vigil. Sideswipe popped his helm in not long after, only to come over and take a stand next to the berth and take one of Air Raid’s hands in his. 

He stepped back and let go when Ratchet and First Aid wheeled Fireflight out and the five other mechs were on their pedes instantly.

“He’s fine,” interrupted Ratchet before any of them could say anything. “His body took a nasty blow and his transformation sequence is going to be out of alignment for a little bit while we get all his inner mechanisms and kibble fixed up but he’s fine.”

“Didn’t even need to do a transfusion in the end,” First Aid added, nodding at Sunstreaker and then Sideswipe. “That was quick work.”

“Practice,” Sunstreaker murmured, optics fixed on his lover’s frame as Ratchet bustled about hooking up a few monitors and a drip. “How long until he wakes up?”

“He should be online at some point tomorrow afternoon. He’s in a forced stasis at the moment, best to leave him in it until tomorrow morning so he can rest up,” Ratchet replied almost absently.

“Thank you Ratchet,” Silverbolt said quietly. “We’ll-“

“Fragging Motormaster!” Slingshot exploded. “He deliberately went for his flight details. He does it every slagging time!”

Skydive laid a hand on his shoulder squeezing. Air Raid reached for Sideswipe instead as Slingshot let Skydive touch him. Silverbolt sighed sadly, looking down at Fireflight. “He hates that we can fly. Always has and he knows none of us can take him on one on one.”

“He’s dead,” Sunstreaker growled emotionlessly. “Next time I see him I will kill him. I will tear him apart and see how he likes it.”

Silverbolt touched his arm briefly. “We know how you feel but be here for ‘Flight. Don’t let that call for revenge get you hurt. You know ‘Flight won’t like it.”

“I need to go, I can’t…” Air Raid’s digits dug into Sideswipe’s arm, tugging at him. Sideswipe glanced at Air Raid before nodding, sending a wave of reassurance to his twin before turning and leading the Aerial attached to him out of the Medbay. Sunstreaker watched him go, then turned his gaze to Silverbolt.

“Motormaster won’t have a chance to fight back,” Sunstreaker replied almost mildly. “I’ve faced far worse than the likes of him.”

“As long as you’re safe,” Silverbolt told him. He looked up at Skydive and Slingshot before turning his gaze to Ratchet. “Will you tell us before you bring him round?”

“Of course,” the CMO replied, straightening and raising an optic ridge at the four remaining mechs. “I’ll send all of you a comm, I don’t know why you’re questioning if I will. Honestly.” Ratchet shook his head and went back to the monitors with a fond smile just touching his lips, and Sunstreaker couldn’t help the rush of affection for the medic. He took one last look at Fireflight, then began to turn and go but Ratchet piped up again and stopped him. “You can stay for awhile if you like, all of you. It’s only monitoring equipment, First Aid and I will move you if we need to attach anything else.”

Sunstreaker slowly twisted back around, seemed to debate with himself for a moment, and then came back to Fireflight’s side to rest his hand on the flyer’s arm.

“I’m only asking,” Silverbolt started, optics on Sunstreaker. “Because one of us is usually here and we can use the bond to call the others in. Now… Sunstreaker, do you want one of us to stay with you or do you want some time with ‘Flight?”

Sunstreaker’s optics ticked up to Silverbolt and they stayed there, lingering for a moment. “You can stay, I’m hardly going to deny you that,” he said. “I’m not worried, not if Ratch says he’ll be fine. I just want to be here when he wakes up.”

Silverbolt nodded. “You’re not denying us anything. We have the bond, you don’t. ‘Flight told us we had to look after you if it came to this.” 

Skydive and Slingshot both drifted closer to touch Fireflight, carefully avoiding any of the damaged and newly repaired areas before they both did the same to Sunstreaker. “If you need us, just say,” Skydive told him. “Sorry ‘Raid stole your brother. You can use us as replacements.”

Sunstreaker quirked a half-grin at Skydive. “Sides is still here,” he replied, tapping his chestplates, “but he’s got his own beau to look after.” He touched Skydive’s hand, Slingshot’s arm and then Silverbolt’s digits briefly. “Thank you though. And you know the same applies for you.”

Skydive nodded before pulling at Slingshot and the pair left together, Slingshot glancing back at Silverbolt as the doors swished open. Silverbolt’s grip tightened on Sunstreaker’s arm. “When Motormaster got hold of him, we could all hear him, over Superion. He was calling for you. He wanted us, like we always do, but you’re the one he trusted to save him.”

Sunstreaker’s next intake hitched a little and he tightened his grip on Fireflight’s arm. “I always will. I love the idiot and no one’s taking him away from me.”

“No, I don’t think that’s possible anymore,” Silverbolt agreed. “I’m sorry this all started as a dare, it was a stupid thing for the others to do, but I can’t argue it led to the right thing.”

“That did hurt,” Sunstreaker admitted, “knowing I was only approachable as a dare, but considering what it ended up getting me I think I can forgive it.”

“I think he would have done it eventually regardless,” Silverbolt said, gazing down at Fireflight. “I don’t when you caught his attention but the others only said that to get him to shut up about you.” The Aerial chuckled. “That backfired.”

Sunstreaker snorted lightly. “I can imagine. He’s a talkative little glitch at the best of times. But he does know how to be quiet and still when the situation calls for it.”

Silverbolt laughed then. “When you’re not distracting him, sure. I think it’s the most awkward requisition I’ve had to put into Prowl, asking for soundproofing for his room.”

“You didn’t.” Sunstreaker turned to look at Silverbolt properly, optics widening a little and a snicker escaping him. “Did you tell him? Was the look on his face worth it?”

“Over my own embarrassment? A little, but I hate to break it to you, your voices carry. Skydive worked out you could be heard in the hall. That’s two doors, and two rooms. Once Prowl heard that, it didn’t take long to get soundproofing for both your rooms.” Silverbolt grinned. “I made sure to do both out of my budget, just so there wasn’t an excuse from Command.”

“Psshhh.” Sunstreaker waved a hand a little dismissively. “Not my fault if everyone else doesn’t like it just cause they’re not getting any. Maybe they should have thought of it before. Honestly though,” he added, “I’m surprised they didn’t. Lotta mechs get bad feedback from this war and screams aren’t really what you wanna hear when you’re patrolling down a corridor.”

Silverbolt grew serious again. “The Ark was never meant for a long term stay like this and we’ve been so stretched for resources, I think it was a minor inconvenience.” The taller mech shifted on his pedes before clearly shaking himself. “ _And_ there’s a big difference between screams and having to listen to someone beg to get fragged harder. Most of us can deal with the screams, we’ve all been there. Some things are meant to stay private.”

That time Sunstreaker did flush, turning away and moving his gaze back down to Fireflight. “I suppose so. There’s a lot about me that I don’t want anyone else knowing.”

“‘Flight too,” Silverbolt said kindly. “You’re family Sunstreaker. We look after our own but like you already know, family always knows far too much.” He glanced down at Fireflight. “I’m going to get back to the other two. ‘Shot’s feeling a little abandoned that ‘Raid chose Sideswipe.”

“Don’t I know it.” Sunstreaker shook his head, not taking his optics off Fireflight. “I’ll stay here until the Hatchet kicks me out. I have no doubts but in case anything does change I’ll let you know.”

“Ratchet won’t,” Silverbolt said before grinning. “You get double the special treatment. He lets you stay for Sideswipe, he’ll let you stay for ‘Flight. No one else gets that.”

“He adores me and Sides, can’t get enough of us,” laughed Sunstreaker. “Besides, my proximity to Sideswipe is for medical purposes and not just because he’s my brother, so there is an actual reason he lets me stay other than favoritism.”

“And if you think it’s not the same for Fireflight, I’ll let the others fill you in on what he’s like when you’re not around.” Silverbolt shook his head before touching Fireflight and heading out the door. Sunstreaker watched him go before dragging his gaze back to Fireflight and grabbing a nearby stool so he could sit down properly next to the young flyer.

He stayed for a few hours until Ratchet shooed him out to get some recharge, and it was a testament to the trust the twins had in him that Sunstreaker didn’t argue. He wanted to stay just in case, but he also knew he needed at least a couple of hours of recharge and Fireflight was in a forced stasis anyway. He was back early the next morning though, and while Ratchet himself wasn’t in First Aid made room for him - and eventually a couple of the other Aerials - quite happily, telling Sunstreaker that Fireflight was healing well and they’d already brought him out of stasis, meaning he was now just deep in recharge instead.

True to Ratchet’s words it was mid-afternoon when Fireflight eventually came back online, and as soon as Sunstreaker caught the telltale flickering in blue optics he sent a comm out to the Aerialbots before leaning over his lover and putting a hand on his cheek, waiting. It was a couple of minutes before the flyer’s optics came on properly and, dimmed as they were, flicked immediately to Sunstreaker, who smiled softly.

“Hey pretty flyer. How are you feeling?”

“Sunny…” Fireflight murmured, not up to full strength. “Knew you’d be here.”

“Where else would I be?” The frontliner leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Fireflight’s lips. “Your brothers are on their way. You gave us a bit of a scare.”

“Everyone’s ok? You’re ok?” Fireflight asked, trying to lift a hand to Sunstreaker’s face, fumbling at his plating.

Sunstreaker took Fireflight’s hand and brought it up to where he wanted it, kissing the palm. “We’re all fine, I promise. You were the only one hurt, and you’re going to be back to normal in no time. Your wounds looked a lot worse than they were.”

That seemed to spark Fireflight to consider his own body for the first time and he stiffened. “My wings… I can’t feel them… Are they there? Did Motormaster…” The level of panic in his voice was growing.

“He didn’t get a chance,” Sunstreaker reassured him. “Superion got him off relatively quickly and Sides and I were there almost straight after that. Your wings are fine, and just as beautiful as ever. You’ve just got a lot of pain blockers on right now, that’s all.” He leaned down so he could rest his helm on Fireflight’s chest briefly. “I promise, pretty flyer, you’re fine.”

Fireflight subsided. “He’s taken wings off before,” he said, voice full of hurt. “He knows what it does.” With a noticeable effort Fireflight got both hands on Sunstreaker’s face, cupping it. “I knew you’d come for me.”

“You also know Ratchet despises doing it because of that.” Sunstreaker lifted his helm and leaned into his lover’s touch. “Always, Fireflight, always.”

“I know you’ll go after Motormaster,” Fireflight said, frown between his optics. “Please, please be careful. I can’t have you hurt because of me.”

“Trust me, lover mine,” murmured Sunstreaker, “he won’t get the chance to lift a digit against me. I promise I’ll be careful, but I know what I’m doing.” He moved then and kissed Fireflight once more, longer this time. “He shouldn’t have touched what wasn’t his.”

Fireflight shivered into the kiss, winding his arms around Sunstreaker to hold him closer. “Can I tell you something? It’s… it’s not something we’ve talked about.”

“Anything,” Sunstreaker replied immediately.

“When you got hurt, when I got hurt, I know we have comms, I know I could reach out to you but I have to remember to do that and I can’t. I panic,” Fireflight admitted. “And I’m so used to being bonded, to not having to think. It makes me more scared for you, that I might miss those last minutes and not be with you. That’s what was in my head, when Motormaster started hurting me, that I couldn’t tell you that I loved you and…” Fireflight sniffed, burying his head into Sunstreaker’s shoulder, trembling.

“I’d know,” Sunstreaker murmured, wrapping his arms around Fireflight tightly and making soothing noises. “I’d always know. I’ll always know. You can’t blame yourself for your instincts, pretty flyer, especially not bond instincts. They’ll always overpower every other instinct you have.” He kissed the side of Fireflight’s helm a couple of times and shuttered his optics. “Don’t ever apologize for it either. I will never hold it against you, alright? I’ve had a lot more time than you to balance bond and comms, you’ll get there eventually I promise you will.” He ran his digits across Fireflight’s shoulder. “We’re not losing each other so easily.”

“But I…” Fireflight trailed off before nodding. “I know. I promise I do. I just… I got scared. I’ve never loved someone who isn’t _there_ , in my spark already. The others, since Vector Sigma brought us online, have always been there. I’ve always loved them. You’re different, I love you and I…” He pulled back enough to kiss Sunstreaker, a little desperately, like he couldn’t convey what he was feeling in words alone.

Sunstreaker let him, kissing back fervently and trying to press how much he understood and loved the flyer into it. When they did finally break apart Sunstreaker’s intakes hitched once and a sad smile touched his lips. “It would be so much easier if we could bond, wouldn’t it?”

“I would do it in a pumpbeat,” Fireflight answered. “And we don’t know for sure, not really.”

“No,” agreed Sunstreaker quietly, “but I don’t know if it’ll put you and yours at risk and I don’t want to see any of you hurt, and as a general rule twins don’t bond outside their sibling. That’s not to say it’s never been done, but there’s no record of it and all known sets of twins have been heavily documented for research’s sake. Us too.” He sighed and shook his helm. “It may be that you’d have to bond with Sideswipe as well for it to work, I don’t know. I don’t want to risk our lives, however much I want you to know how much I love you.”

“I’d do it if I could have you,” Fireflight told him. “I’d do anything. I asked the others and they agreed they would be alright with you being in the bond with all of us if it came to that but I know neither of us could live with the risk of something happening to the others.”

“We’ll look into it,” Sunstreaker promised. “There’s no guarantee, but we’ll have it researched.”

Fireflight’s grip tightened on Sunstreaker. “And I promise nothing will take me away from you until we find a way.”

“I know.”

The two of them stayed huddled together until the other Aerialbots came flooding into the Medbay and over to the two of them, where Sunstreaker pulled back enough to let them around but not enough that he or Fireflight lost contact. First Aid followed not long after to ask Fireflight a few customary questions and then leaving the flyers to their reunion. After the initial onslaught of questions about Fireflight’s wellbeing and how he was doing and establishing for themselves that their gestaltmate was truly alright the conversation turned lighter and the banter often heard thrown around the Aerialbots became prevalent to anyone around the Medbay, even if it was perhaps a little more subdued than usual.

Sunstreaker watched more than joined in, tightening his hand in Fireflight’s and mentally cursing Motormaster.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
It took a week but Fireflight was cleared for full duties after being discharged from Medbay. His repairs and welds had healed nicely, as had the repairs to the fuel lines that had been severed, and Sunstreaker, as a treat and wanting nothing more than to pamper his lover for a while, made Fireflight the subject of a long, hot wash, total scrub down, strip, repaint and waxing courtesy of the artist’s own hands. By the time the flyer was back out into the general populace he looked better than ever and gleamed softly under the Ark’s lights.

Perhaps it was a little vain but Sunstreaker very much appreciated his own work on Fireflight and made sure to show him several times over.

Still, the need for vengeance never left Sunstreaker and the longer they went without a scuffle with the Decepticons the more it grew until finally Megatron reared his head once more nearly a month after Motormaster’s assault on Fireflight. While it wasn’t unusual to see the twins out of the door and into battle before everyone else there was a definite single-mindedness this time, especially in Sunstreaker, that had most other mechs on edge. The golden twin fairly radiated that he would rip the spark out of anyone who crossed him even as he leapt into battle, and even the Decepticons seemed somewhat unnerved.

As it was it didn’t take the twins long to find Motormaster, surrounded as he was by his little Stunticon minions. Sideswipe spotted him first, but rather than helping his twin he instead dove into the back of Drag Strip in a surprise aerial assault, sending the racer offline in less than a second, and then immediately turned a powerful blast of his rifle right into the chestplates of Breakdown, who toppled to the floor with a look of surprise on his faceplates.

Motormaster roared at the red twin’s audacity but before he could properly move to join Dead End and Wildrider in chasing after Sideswipe he found Sunstreaker in his path, arms by his side and with a deceptively calm expression belied by fury-darkened optics.

“Well if I can’t have one of you I’ll take the other,” Motormaster snarled, and launched himself at Sunstreaker. To his surprise the frontliner merely stepped to the side and let him rocket past, but not before the Stunticon leader felt a sudden pain through his back. Whipping around he saw Sunstreaker in a much more aggressive stance with one wristblade unfolded, smeared with bright pink fresh energon. The golden twin still hadn’t said a word, which infuriated Motormaster and sent him into an outright frenzy.

Unfortunately for Motormaster Sunstreaker had had vorns of fighting experience in the arenas where the only rule was kill or be killed. While the war meant Sunstreaker had taken many many lives regardless, Optimus had implored his soldiers not long after they woke up from stasis to try and keep the remaining Decepticons alive. Their race had already been decimated by the war and the bearer of the Matrix was almost desperate to see as many of his people survive as possible, regardless of their faction. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had heeded this for the most part, but Motormaster had made sure that for now, at least, Sunstreaker had thrown away any such compunctions to let him live and thus he stopped holding back.

Therefore despite Motormaster’s reputation, sheer strength and downright insanity the fight was very one-sided. Sunstreaker never spoke and never took his optics off his opponent, reading his every move like an open bookfile, and this made Motormaster more and more incensed as the fight wore on. His increasing rage, while terrifying to most mechs, only served to cause him to make more and more mistakes which Sunstreaker mercilessly took advantage of. More than a couple of times the frontliner heard Motormaster calling for his teammates to take Sunstreaker out while his back was turned, but Sideswipe had the remaining two Stunticons well in hand so they were hardly going to be any help to their boss.

After twenty or so solid minutes Motormaster was starting to wear, his overtaxed systems and constant barrage of attacks taking their toll, and it was at this point Sunstreaker chose to properly fight back. 

A weak enemy was a dead enemy. 

That wasn’t to say Motormaster hadn’t got his hits in. Sunstreaker’s right hip armor was crumpled and there was an open rend across his left side that sparked fitfully every time he moved, but the pain was simply rerouted to auxiliary feedback sensors to be filtered out as junk data, and the golden twin never flinched at either wound. Regardless it wasn’t until Motormaster was brought down on his back by a vicious series of blows, one of them severing the motor cable to his right arm, that Motormaster realized he might not actually be winning the fight. He raged and tried to get up but Sunstreaker brought another blade down between the tiniest of seams in his hip and took out his right leg’s cabling as well. Try as he might, Motormaster couldn’t get that side of his body to obey him and instead he resorted to swinging his sword wildly at Sunstreaker in an effort to fend him off. The gladiator scoffed, the first sound he’d made since before the fight began, and knocked the blade aside with almost casual grace.

“This,” he said, his first spoken words in an icy tone, “is for Fireflight, you useless heap of Pit-bound scrap.”

Both of his wristblades plunged straight into the seam across Motormaster’s chestplates, forcing them apart with some effort due to both thick armor and the Stunticon’s renewed attempts to get Sunstreaker off him, but eventually they found what they were looking for and pierced straight through the spark pulsing erratically in its casing.

It was quick to stop pulsing though, and as it faded out Sunstreaker watched as the thrashings ceased and orange optics lost their glow and armor began to fade to gray. There was an almighty shrieking from nearby as the remaining Stunticons still online began clutching at their own chestplates, agony clearly ripping through them, and Sunstreaker only spared them the barest amount of pity before turning back to Motormaster’s frame and picking up the sword that he’d knocked away earlier.

Sideswipe joined him as they returned to the Autobot frontlines, by which time they realized that actually most of the fighting was over. Sunstreaker was aware they must have made a bit of a picture, him covered in energon and a sparking frame and a huge sword slung over one shoulder, but he ignored any callings of his name as instead he beelined for Silverbolt and his Aerials, hovering not far above the ground as they watched the final remaining dregs of the Decepticons retreating.

Sunstreaker stopped below them and sank the blade of the sword into the ground, optics looking up at the five flyers steadily, all traces of his previous rage gone now that the one who had _dared_ could never do it again.

Fireflight pretty much landed on top of Sunstreaker as he dropped out the sky, transforming as he descended. He grabbed Sunstreaker, taking in the damage. “So fragging stupid!” he hissed, voice full of hurt and relief before he kissed Sunstreaker, hard and deep, for once not caring they had an audience. Vaguely he could hear Silverbolt calling for Ratchet as he landed behind them but nothing mattered except pulling Sunstreaker closer.

“An hour with the Hatchet,” Sunstreaker murmured into Fireflight’s lips. “He wishes he did more damage.” He wrapped both arms around his lover, heedless of the energon still decorating his arms and frame. “He can’t hurt you ever again.”

“I don’t care about him,” Fireflight responded, shaking Sunstreaker slightly. “All I care about is that you’re alright. I can’t watch you do that again, not for me.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Please Sunny. I know you’re more than capable but I just can’t stand it.”

Sunstreaker eyed Fireflight for a long moment, before sighing and dropping his helm to the flyer’s. “Alright,” he said, just as softly, “not for you. I promise.” He shuttered his optics. “I suspect they’ll have got the message anyway.”

“Thank you,” Fireflight murmured before wrapping his arms tighter around the frontliner.

“Talk about over compensation,” Air Raid suddenly said from next to them, yanking the sword out of the ground and holding it up. “There’s no way you need it to be this big. He clearly didn’t know how to use it right.”

Sideswipe snorted from where he stood a little ways away. “Motormaster’s always had an overinflated sense of his own strength. He’s used to throwing his weight around to get what he wants and all he has to do is smash a few big objects and suddenly mechs are terrified of him. Slagaft.” He glared mildly at the sword. “Good riddance to insane waste.”

“Yeah,” Air Raid agreed, shoving the sword back in the ground again. “I think I need to go wash my hand now though.”

“I think you’ll need to take ‘Flight with you too,” Silverbolt commented. “When Ratchet’s done with Sunstreaker.”

The yellow frontliner winced a little at that. “Slag. Ratch is gonna scrap me worse than Motoromaster could ever hope.” He lifted one hand off Fireflight temporarily to press at his side, and while his frame sparked at the pressure he could tell there was very little structural damage. “I’m in for a yelling at the very least.”

Fireflight snorted softly. “Not like you’ll listen but when he’s done fixing you-“ The flyer pulled his head back to meet Sunstreaker’s optics. “-I’m taking you to the wash racks and making sure to scrub you clean everywhere.”

“Aaaaand I’m not waiting for them any longer,” Air Raid said, waving a hand. “The wash racks are all yours.”

“Good,” said Sunstreaker vehemently, “this energon is eating into my paint and I’ve had enough of Motormaster.”

Sideswipe rolled his optics but came up to Air Raid and rested an arm on his shoulder, leaning in with a bit of a grin. “Sure I can’t tempt you?”

“Well,” Air Raid said thoughtfully. “We have time whilst Ratchet shouts at Sunstreaker.”

“My thoughts exactly.” His optics lit up at the sight of Ratchet himself stalking towards the group and he snuck his arm through Air Raid’s and made exaggerated creeping away movements. “And I think that’s our cue. Later, little brother!”

Air Raid laughed, waved goodbye to the others and hurried Sideswipe away faster. Fireflight shook his head, smiling at Sunstreaker. “And I suppose this is where I’m meant to let go.”

“Probably,” Sunstreaker replied wryly.

The CMO reached them as Air Raid and Sideswipe vanished and glared at Sunstreaker, unceremoniously wrenching his arm upwards and leaning down to examine the rend in his armor. The golden twin winked at Fireflight, then promptly hissed as Ratchet poked at a sensor. The medic huffed and straightened.

“What the _frag_ were you thinking taking on Motormaster? You’re lucky this is all the damage he did!”

“Please,” Sunstreaker sniffed somewhat haughtily, “Motormaster was barely classable as a challenge. The damage is superficial and you know it, Ratch.”

“You’re insane. Why in the Pit would you pick a fight with that moron of a mech? Are you deliberately trying to make more work for me? Like I don’t have enough to do without patching up your sorry aft?”

“You love me and you know it,” Sunstreaker grinned, and promptly got smacked for his efforts.

“Fragging glitched in the processors you are,” Ratchet snapped back. “Come on, get your pain in the aft chassis back into Medbay so I can patch you up you ungrateful slagaft.”

Sunstreaker mimed grovelling at the irate medic’s pedes, but transformed with a cackle of laughter and scooched out of the CMO’s range when Ratchet let out a noise of frustrated rage, then began racing back towards the Ark. Ratchet growled and put his hands on his hips, then pointed after the twin while locking his glare onto Fireflight.

“After him,” he said sharply, “and keep him in the Medbay until I get back. And no funny business,” he added at Fireflight’s growing grin.

“I promise, no funny business until you’re done with him, then he’s going to the wash rack so I don’t have to remember what just happened,” Fireflight stated before stepping away, transforming and taking off back to the Ark.

Silverbolt chuckled. “Good luck Ratchet.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Ratchet groused, packing up his tools and raising his digit to the sky. “Go on you lot, get.”

The rest of the Aerialbots did as they were told, with smiles all around. Ratchet watched them go with a shake of his head before transforming himself and following them all back to base.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
Honestly Sunstreaker was surprised it took as long as it did, but late morning the next day he found himself summoned to Optimus’ office, which normally served as the officers’ meeting room. Considering the number of disciplines he and Sideswipe had had in here the room wasn’t at all unfamiliar, and unsurprisingly Sideswipe was already inside offering his twin a grin.

Optimus was also there, along with Red Alert and Prowl. Business as usual then, Sunstreaker mused, and he tucked his hands behind his frame as he felt Sideswipe mirror his pose next to him. Prowl stared at the both of them, doorwings almost straight out and perfectly still.

“We’ve just had a report about the Decepticon forces,” he started. “It appears they have lost the entire Stunticon team thanks to the total deactivation of their leader.”

“What a shame,” Sunstreaker deadpanned.

“This is serious,” said Prowl sharply. “Did you or did you not kill Motormaster?”

“Yeah.” Sunstreaker narrowed his optics slightly. “And I have no regrets about it either.”

“Why?” Optimus rumbled, cutting off whatever Prowl had to say. “You killed a Cybertronian.”

“I’ve killed a lot of Cybertronians,” retorted Sunstreaker evenly. “It’s the price of war sometimes.”

“And yet you went against orders,” Prowl frowned. “You know the rules about-”

“Technically,” Sideswipe interrupted, “it wasn’t an order. It was an ask or a suggestion, but most definitely not an order or a rule. Don’t try and pull that on us, Prowl.”

The tactician’s doorwings dipped down in obvious disapproval, and Optimus tilted his head at the twins. “Why?” He asked again.

“Because he hurt Fireflight,” Sunstreaker said simply. “And I hate to break it to you Optimus but the Stunticons? Totally insane anyway. Trust us, we’ve seen a lot of mechs like them and they’re just not right in the processors. Whatever rehabilitation you might have planned for the ‘Cons if we ever win this thing would never have worked on them.”

“Perhaps not, but surely they deserved a chance to find out.”

“You mean to tell me you killed a mech and caused the deaths of his entire team because he inflicted perfectly survivable injuries onto a mech they were fighting against?” asked Red Alert incredulously, breaking Optimus off. “Do you realize the danger you’ve put us in now? The Decepticons will retaliate, you’ve just caused Megatron to lose an entire gestalt. He won’t be taking this lying down!”

“Yeah, well, maybe he needs to learn that some things are off-limits,” Sunstreaker snapped. “He targets our gestalt, I’ll target theirs. And unlike theirs I’m actually competent.”

“You’re a menace,” Red Alert spluttered. “An utter menace that has no regard for anyone but himself, who doesn’t understand that his actions have consequences, that being in a relationship like _yours_ is detrimental to this army!”

“Don’t you dare drag Fireflight into this,” snarled the yellow frontliner. “He didn’t ask me to do this.”

“No, he was probably too busy sticking his head in the clouds wondering why they were so fluffy,” Red Alert retorted. “You’re a frontliner in a war, Sunstreaker, you certainly don’t need the distraction of something like that in battle, especially with someone as inattentive as Fireflight-”

“Enough!” Prowl interrupted harshly, causing Red Alert to subside somewhat. “This isn’t about Sunstreaker’s relationship, Red Alert, you know that. Sunstreaker,” he continued, turning back to face the frontliner, “what you did was wholly unnecessary and driven out of vengeance. These are not actions of war, these are personal and retaliatory actions that have no place among the Autobots. This was premeditated and you went out deliberately looking to deactivate. Is that about right?”

Sunstreaker inclined his helm a little, but didn’t actually say anything.

“And Sideswipe, you aided and abetted these actions despite knowing what your brother was up to, what the end result would be.”

Sideswipe shrugged almost carelessly. “He’s my twin.”

“And yet in the process of all this you have managed to deal a significant blow to the Decepticon forces and give us a huge tactical advantage.” Prowl pursed his lips. “However I cannot let this go unpunished.”

“I don’t care,” Sunstreaker replied succinctly. “It’s one less thing for everyone to worry about and the ‘Cons got the message that you don’t mess with the Aerials. That you don’t mess with Fireflight. That you don’t touch what’s mine. That’s worth any punishment.”

Prowl ex-vented sharply. “You will both be going straight to the brig after this while we decide what to do with you two.”

Red Alert started to say something else but Optimus put a large hand on the security director’s shoulder. “No, Red Alert,” he said firmly. “You’d never ask it of Jazz or Prowl so do not ask it of Sunstreaker. This is exactly why we’re fighting and I will not stand between my soldiers and any happiness they can find.” The large mech straightened and turned his gaze to Sunstreaker. “Sunstreaker, while I do not condone your actions I understand them. You’ve been raised differently with different instincts and we will take all of that into account. Prowl, if you wouldn’t mind taking the twins down to the brig? I believe I need to have a quick word with Red Alert.”

“Yes sir.” Prowl’s perfunctory tone and dipped doorwings carried on through his additional order to “move” directed at the twins, who went without complaint, but Sunstreaker caught Red Alert’s optics with his briefly and snarled in the security director’s direction as they left the room.

Fragger.  
  
  
-x-  
  
  
In the end the twins were sent into isolation for a week, and when they came out they had very heavy restrictions placed upon them, Sunstreaker for much longer than Sideswipe, for all that mattered. Over the next several months until the end of his sentence Sunstreaker saw plenty of Fireflight - Optimus had been adamant about that, unwilling to punish the young Aerial too - but that had been about it. Taking advantage of it however Sunstreaker spent much of his time with Ratchet, both partly as a kind of counselor and partly because he decided to put himself in for testing and research, Sideswipe agreeing without hesitation when he realized what exactly it was Sunstreaker had been looking for.

To say Ratchet had been expecting the question was a gross overstatement, but he wasn’t overly surprised by it either. Sunstreaker had been quietly cleaning tools and supplies and sorting inventory, heavily contemplating something, before he finally piped up.

“Ratch, how much do you know about twins?”

Ratchet paused in his datawork, thinking. “Nowhere near as much as I’d like,” he said eventually. “Why?”

“What would you say if I told you Sides and I were willing to submit to research under your supervision?”

That seemed to actually startle the CMO, and he turned to stare at Sunstreaker. “I’d ask why the frag would you do that?”

“Because I want to know.” Sunstreaker stopped his work and stood up, walking over to the desk where Ratchet was working and halting next to it, pressing a hand to his chestplates. “I want to know if I can bond with Fireflight without my twin, and without any harm coming to him or his gestalt.”

That took Ratchet from simply staring to outright goggling, and it was a long moment before he stood up and placed his own hand gently on top of Sunstreaker’s. “Sunny, do you know what you’re asking?”

“Of course I do,” the frontliner retorted. “I have to know, and you’re the only one we’d trust with this. You have the best chance of finding out, getting the answers I want. The answers _we_ want.”

“Does Fireflight know about this?”

“Not specifically, but we’ve mentioned the possibility. He’s more adamant he’d take the risks than I was, and not because I don’t want it as much.” Sunstreaker frowned. “I won’t risk him. I won’t risk him, or the Aerials, or Sides and myself, but we have to know.”

There was a heavy silence for several long minutes, and then Ratchet’s digits tightened a little as his optics narrowed a little in worry. “You’re serious about this.”

“Deadly,” Sunstreaker agreed.

“Alright.” Ratchet let go of the golden twin and stepped back. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do and what I can come up with. I can’t promise they’ll be the answers you want though, and there’s no guarantee I’ll even get any answers for you.”

“But you’ll try?”

“I will try.”

Ratchet suddenly found himself with an armful of Sunstreaker, who hugged the medic tightly in thanks before bolting out of the room to go tell Sideswipe, leaving behind a very bemused, somewhat flustered medic.

Afterwards Sideswipe and Sunstreaker spent most of their restricted time in the Medbay with Ratchet, and eventually they allowed First Aid and Skyfire to start helping as well. Unexpectedly the tests and readings and experiments weren’t especially invasive, as the twins had been expecting, and the three mechs always got their explicit permission on record before performing anything they did consider invasive. It was certainly a far better experience than the last time they’d been put under experimentation like this, and as the two of them sat together and watched Ratchet carefully set up the recorder nodes, First Aid start delicately adding the spark probes and Skyfire set up the monitoring equipment and sensory outputs they could only hope they would actually get some answers.


	2. Epilogue

It took twenty three years.

From the moment they all woke up on the Ark after the eruption of the volcano they’d crashed into to the moment the Autobots finally defeated the Decepticons took twenty three years. 

Honestly compared to how long they’d been fighting twenty three years was almost nothing to a Cybertronian, but to Sunstreaker it had never felt longer. He still hated Earth as a whole, but parts of it had grown on him over the years, and some of his favorite memories now were of something that had happened on Earth as opposed to Cybertron. He was still looking forward to going back to his home planet once the spacebridge was properly secured and stable, but that wasn’t likely to happen too soon, as the parties had yet to see any kind of end and it was hard to begin putting lives back together when all the mechs that could help were too wasted to even walk straight.

Of course that didn’t stop the twins from joining in, and Sunstreaker didn’t really remember too much afterwards until the start of construction on Autobot City, but he did know that the celebrations were epic and freeing and full of relief and laughter and a tentative hope. He also knew that he had a lot of private celebrations, both with the entire Aerialbot team and Mirage and Bluestreak and Hound and Ratchet, but also together with Fireflight, both of them ecstatic at the honest-to-Primus end to a war that, for Sunstreaker, had been raging far, far too long and for Fireflight had been his entire life up until that point.

Kup and Elita’s teams had found a secure wing under what used to be an Enforcer’s station, more than large enough to keep the Earth Decepticons imprisoned until it could be decided what to do with them, so there was a rotating guard shift present at all times to make sure the prisoners were kept secure and looked after. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe took a few shifts when they could, and the golden twin especially took great satisfaction in the flinches he got from some of the Decepticons. His termination of Motormaster and therefore the rest of the Stunticons had both good and bad repercussions. Megatron had been beyond enraged that one of his gestalts had been taken out in one fell swoop, but a lot of the Decepticons were now much more wary of the twins as they realized that with nothing holding them back Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were an incredibly deadly force when working together.

As it was the first time Sunstreaker had stepped back onto Cybertronian ground he had to stop completely and just let it sink in for several long moments. He was here, he was home. The mantra repeated through his processors as he and Sideswipe were taken for their first guard shift and he couldn’t help the disbelieving joy that bubbled up through the bond at the fact that they were standing on Cybertron again, that their planet had survived, if barely, and they could and would rebuild.

That had also culminated in a celebration when they returned from Cybertron.

Still, even with the war officially over there was a lot of work to be done. Autobot City, built on a section of land given to them by the humans’ governing body and declared Cybertronian territory, took another four years to finish. It would have taken longer but Skyfire had petitioned to be allowed to check the Constructicons as he remembered them very differently from before the war, and with several members of the science division discovered that not only had Shockwave had his claws in the gestalt, reprogramming and modifying them quite extensively, but that the gestalt coding had appeared after or as part of the reprogramming. Together they then managed to temper the coding down - it would take a very very long time to circumnavigate or delete Shockwave’s work - enough that the Constructicons could work on helping to design and build the City without being a detriment to the work or bots who were already living in the temporary habsuites in one section of the City. With the Constructicons’ expertise and rapid construction ability Autobot City was very very quick to take shape.

Sunstreaker waited until the living quarters for both of the Autobot gestalts began construction, and requested that two of the suites be large enough for a minimum of two mechs to live comfortably. It was granted, and not too long later both the Protectobots and the Aerialbots were inspecting their new, much larger accommodations gleefully. As had been part of their previous setup there was a large communal zone that housed a large entertainment area, a substantial kitchen and plenty of furniture and space for more things. Off the communal area were five doors, each leading to a separate apartment that was pretty much self-sustaining. The communal area was entirely optional but for the gestalts it was perfect. 

At Silverbolt’s insistence all the rooms were soundproofed.

The decision that Sunstreaker would move into one of the larger habsuites with Fireflight was something they never discussed outright, but it was so natural at that point that neither of them questioned it and they certainly had no qualms about it. They meshed together in their new shared space so instinctively that it was a seamless transition, and with Sideswipe right next door with Air Raid the twins were more than happy with the arrangement. There was no transitional period needed with the other Aerialbots either; Silverbolt, Slingshot and Skydive had welcomed the twins as family years and years ago, and they were all perfectly comfortable with their new situation. 

Sunstreaker hadn’t been sure where he would be settling after the war, and certainly hadn’t thought it would be Earth, but that had been back well before he and Fireflight had got together. Once they had he’d grudgingly accepted that he’d most likely be staying on Earth with his lover. Turned out he was pretty alright with the whole state of affairs. Autobot City ended up becoming a little piece of home on the Primus-forsaken mudball of a planet, and he made regular trips to Cybertron as part of the rebuilding and rehabilitation efforts. It was nice to see life again, and he commemorated a lot of the timeline of events as paintings and sketches which he was allowed to display in a different part of the City to show off their progress and document the start of the new Golden Age.

They had all settled into a kind of routine and peace once the City and connections with Cybertron were up and running and Sunstreaker found himself enjoying it, not missing the fighting and thrill of battle nearly as much as he thought he would. It wasn’t quite complete yet, though, and as he woke up one morning buried under Fireflight’s form (as tended to be the usual way of their recharge habits) he couldn’t help feeling anxious.

He didn’t let it show though as he roused his lover from recharge with a series of kisses and the tweaking of wingtips, grinning at the sleepy mech blinking at him a few times through blurry optics as Sunstreaker shuffled off their berth and slipped into the kitchen to grab them both a quick pick-me-up. He came back to Fireflight sat on the edge of the berth with his legs dangling off it and a hand held out in silent demand for the energon, which Sunstreaker handed over. The frontliner took a seat next to Fireflight and kissed his shoulder before starting on his own energon.

“Drink up pretty flyer, we’ve got a busy day ahead.”

“We do? What we doing?” Fireflight asked curiously, snuggled up to Sunstreaker’s side. The years had not diminished his tactile nature, and thanks to the Aerial’s unconscious influence Sunstreaker had slowly become a lot less hesitant or worried about showing similar affection in public. The yellow twin put his free hand on one of Fireflight’s knees and began dragging his thumb gently back and forth, but not before bringing out a small, familiar piece of paper from his subspace and handing it wordlessly over to Fireflight.

Fireflight smiled softly at the frontliner before it grew bigger. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Damn right I am,” Sunstreaker winked. They’d tried to make the artists festival a regular thing, but they’d missed several years by virtue of being busy, laid up by injury or out fighting. As it was they’d only managed to return to the festival around ten times in the last few decades, and their last visit had been over eight years previously. “You game?”

“Like you could keep me away,” Fireflight responded before leaning over to press a kiss to Sunstreaker’s lips. “I always treasure this.”

“Me too,” murmured Sunstreaker, returning the kiss and nudging Fireflight gently. “The quicker we drink up the quicker we can set off. Sides gave us this-” he unsubspaced and held out a little tin that held no doubt as to its contents, “- and I found us some rust sticks last time I was on Cybertron. So we’re all set for a day of arts, crafts and junk food.”

The Aerial beamed happily. “You’d better drink up faster. It’ll take you longer to get there than me, unless you want me to bounce back and forth again, and cause the air space issue with Portland Airport _again_.” Fireflight sniggered. That year had been somewhat sidetracked by his inability to fly a set course away from the human traffic, and Sunstreaker and Silverbolt had both spent a long time deciding whether to be exasperated or amused by the whole situation.

“Please don’t,” said Sunstreaker wryly. “I’d like to actually go this year.” He took another large swig of his energon and subspaced the tin once more.

When they both finished and Fireflight looked infinitely more awake they took a few minutes to get ready, and not too long later left into the communal area. Skydive was already up, stretched out on his front on one of the sofas with a holonovel in front of him and a mug of heated energon on the floor next to him. He greeted them cheerfully, if a little absently, and Fireflight and Sunstreaker left the suites into a bright, sunny day that was wonderfully warm even in the early morning. Sunstreaker stepped back from Fireflight after squeezing their interlaced digits to allow the flyer room to transform. A ‘last one there’ challenge sounded from the comms as the jet blasted away into the sky, and Sunstreaker’s only response was a mild ‘frag you’, to which Fireflight just laughed delightedly.

Given that Autobot City was further out from Portland than the Ark had been, it took Sunstreaker just under an hour to reach the venue, where he found Fireflight waiting excitedly in root mode, rocking back on his heels.

Well used to the festival now Sunstreaker and Fireflight both ignored the protests of the ticket vendor that their entry was free and shoved the money at him anyway, and they went into the festival eager to see old friends and new stalls and works. The glassblower that the two mechs had first met on their initial visit still came every year, though he was much older now and his daughter had practically taken over the business. The second time they’d seen him he’d finally introduced himself as Elijah, and despite their irregular visiting schedules Sunstreaker and Fireflight always made time to see him. He would always be full of stories not just of his family but of his store, his customers, commissions he’d got and all kinds of other tales that made Fireflight laugh and Sunstreaker relate to the glassblower.

Apparently no matter where one went customers were customers, and even through different species their stories could be almost identical. Elijah had cackled at that, and laughed even harder at a couple of the stories Sunstreaker told him that proved the point.

Eventually though the two mechs moved on with a promise that they’d see him next year, and the rest of their time was spent admiring workmanship, watching artisans at work, greeting older contacts that Sunstreaker had kept in touch with and meeting new people that were just starting their first foray into festivals and events.

The festival had only grown since the two of them had started attending, and with so many artists and pieces both Sunstreaker and Fireflight were spoilt for choice in not only getting themselves things but gifts for the rest of the family. Despite the insistence it wasn’t necessary neither mech cared, and everyone usually got a little something from their trip to this particular event.

They shared banter, conversations, rust sticks, goodies, good-natured arguments and artisan interrogations over the course of the day, and by the time everything started winding down they were sorely disappointed that it just seemed to go by quicker every year. They stayed for as long as they could before getting properly kicked out by an amused ticket vendor, and then Sunstreaker grabbed Fireflight’s hand briefly.

“Meet me on that ledge above the Ark? I have something for you.”

Fireflight perked up but looked at him curiously. “Alright.” He leant in to press a soft kiss to Sunstreaker’s cheek and murmured, “It’s been a fantastic day, thank you.” He stepped back, transformed and flung himself skyward with a loud whoop. Sunstreaker watched him go with a fond expression, then transformed himself and headed out to the Ark.

Ostensibly the Ark was now manned by a skeleton crew and was being used as a communications and relay hub, and even the outside of the ship seemed somewhat different now. Still, Sunstreaker focused on where he was going and not too long later arrived on the ledge above the Ark that had been one of his favorite hang-outs. Fireflight was sat on the edge of the ledge with his pedes dangling off it, swinging them happily. Sunstreaker joined him.

“I’m glad you had fun today.” The golden mech tipped his head onto Fireflight’s shoulder. “You’ve no idea how happy it makes me that you’re as interested in something that’s so fundamental for me as this is.”

Fireflight pressed his cheek to Sunstreaker’s helm. “You’re interested, that’s all I need. I mean at first, it was just that, but now… I know I’d be useless at it all but I like watching others make things.”

“Art’s not about being good, it’s about self-expression. Even if what you make looks nothing like anything as long as you’re happy with it that’s the most important thing. I mean,” he added with a slight laugh, “you’ve seen what the humans call ‘abstract art’. You could do that with your optics shut.”

"I still prefer watching someone else do it," Fireflight said before nudging him. "Don't hold me in suspense."

There was a lengthy pause as Sunstreaker debated how best to put his thoughts into words. “Years ago,” he started softly, “Sides and I went to Ratchet and we submitted ourselves for study. At first it was just to Ratchet, but eventually First Aid and Skyfire joined in. They wanted to know more about twins and we wanted to know more about ourselves.” He touched his chestplates. “You know as well as I do that Sides and I are half of the same spark. However we’ve always been an unusual case because most sets of twins are... more delicate. Splitting a spark means each frame has less spark energy to work with, and therefore it couldn’t handle the same requirements as something like your frame. Obviously though our frames are very heavy duty, and normal split sparks wouldn’t be able to handle the performance. So we wanted to know why we could.”

Sunstreaker sat up then, and twisted around slightly to face Fireflight. “We have a lot of spark energy, pretty much the same as a mech with a normal unsplit spark. Had we not split we probably would have been a loadbearer or multi-changer or something similar. It was a pretty cool thing to learn, I’ll be honest.” The frontliner then lowered his hand and his optics briefly. “Skyfire was also studying you guys, as I’m sure you know. Between your team and us and the information the rest of the science team gathered they think... it’s only theory, mind you, but they think that Sides and I can bond separately due to the fact we apparently have the independent energies to sustain a bond each, and you can bond without detriment to your gestalt.

“With that in mind,” Sunstreaker demurred, taking his lover’s hand between both of his, “Fireflight, will you bond with me?”

Fireflight covered their hands with his other one. "I want nothing more," he replied honestly before the calm countenance failed, a grin breaking out. He launched himself at Sunstreaker, wrapping his arms around him. "Really? Really? When? Love you so much!" 

Sunstreaker let out a brief ex-vent, laughing as Fireflight threw himself into his arms. He hugged back tightly, tucking his face into Fireflight’s shoulder. “Whenever you want, though I suggest we tell the others before we actually try it.” He pressed a kiss into the flyer’s neck. “I love you too, pretty flyer. So very much.”

“Do we have to? I would love to see their faces as they worked it out,” Fireflight laughed, not budging an inch. “Will I be able to feel Sideswipe or you the others?”

“I don’t know. Neither do the scientists,” Sunstreaker shrugged. “It’s entirely possible, which is why I suggested we let the others know. Of course, if you just want to randomly pop up in a bond...”

Fireflight sniggered. “I think you should pick. You’re the one who might suddenly have five extra mechs in there. I might only get two.” Fireflight pulled back slightly to look at Sunstreaker. “It’s not exactly quiet.”

“ _You’re_ not exactly quiet,” Sunstreaker returned, laughingly. He reached up, expression softening. “I’m more than okay with that.”

Fireflight smiled at him softly. “I would bond with you right here and now but if you want to wait, tell the others, plan a romantic evening, I’m up for all of that too.”

“Too open here. Too exposed. Too risky.” Sunstreaker pressed his digits to Fireflight’s chest. “Let’s go home first, where it’s safe, and then I’m all yours.”

Fireflight pressed his hand to Sunstreaker’s chest in return, palm flattening out over the yellow. “And I’m yours. I love you so much Sunny.”

“Good.” The golden twin stood up then, and held a hand out for Fireflight. “Shall we? Race you back.”

Fireflight grinned, taking the hand, pushing in close to Sunstreaker before giving him a kiss, just a touch on the dirty side. “You’re on.” With that he spun round and leapt off the ledge, transforming as he went. Sunstreaker watched him blast off for all of a second, then promptly threw himself off the ledge with a wild whoop. He skidded down on his pedes for half of it and spent the remaining half freefalling, until he hit the ground with a couple of rolls only to lose just enough momentum to transform. From there he peeled out and sent his engine into overdrive for the ride back to Autobot City.

Sunstreaker knew there was no way he’d beat his lover back, but he enjoyed letting loose and being reckless so it really didn’t matter to him at all. Sure enough when he came belting through the entrance gates to transform and slide to a halt Fireflight was already there and waiting with a wide smile and dancing optics. The flyer took his hand and tugged Sunstreaker back towards their home, wings excited and anticipatory.

Silverbolt and Air Raid were in the little kitchen in the communal area, and Sideswipe was sprawled out on the floor nearby, but they were barely glanced at before Sunstreaker and Fireflight vanished into their suite, leaving the three mechs blinking in bemusement.

As soon as they were inside and their habsuite door was locked Sunstreaker took Fireflight’s face in his hands and kissed him hard. He pulled away only slightly after several minutes, breathless and optics blazing. “Bond with me,” he repeated.

“Yes,” Fireflight said vehemently. He tugged at Sunstreaker, dragging him to their berth and sitting himself down, making room for the other mech. He laid a hand on his chest. “This spark is yours.”

Sunstreaker followed close behind, choosing to swing his legs either side of Fireflight’s and settle into his lap, placing his hand on top of Fireflight’s on the flyer’s chest. “May I see?”

Fireflight nodded, linking his digits through Sunstreaker’s and pulling them down to their laps as his chest split and started sliding away. Beneath was a pale blue spark swirling within its casing. The flyer said nothing, just watching Sunstreaker’s face with a soft smile. The golden twin’s own smile widened, and his other hand came up to oh-so-carefully trace around the corona of the spark, mesmerized.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed. “All of you in this.” He let a little tendril from the spark’s corona flick out at his digits. “You’re beautiful.”

Fireflight let out a shuddering vent, digits tightening on Sunstreaker’s. “Because you love me.”

“I do.” Sunstreaker let his digits fall and split his own chestplates open, a darker blue light spilling over them. “As you love me.”

“Like nothing else in the universe,” Fireflight agreed. He carefully held a hand up to Sunstreaker’s spark, letting it wrap tendrils around his hand this time and his smile grew. “I knew you had the best spark, with the most love in it. I can already feel it.”

Sunstreaker shivered, wrapping his digits around Fireflight’s wrist and raising his optics to the flyer’s. They stayed there for a moment, and then he leaned forwards to press his lips to Fireflight’s, bringing their chests close in together as he did so. He could feel the heat of Fireflight’s spark on his chamber and he mumbled his approval into Fireflight’s mouth. Used to the action from his merges from Sideswipe his spark almost immediately started to reach out with small thin tendrils, eager for the warmth and the merge. It faltered briefly when it realized this wasn’t its usual partner, but the hesitation was barely noticeable and all too soon the tendrils grabbed at Fireflight’s spark and Sunstreaker hissed as little hints of the flyer pulsed across at him.

“You sure?” Sunstreaker asked against Fireflight’s lips. “It’s going to be intense.”

Fireflight wrapped a hand around Sunstreaker’s upper arm and tugged at him. “Come on Sunny. I’ve wanted this for years. I want to be a part of you forever.” A pronounced shiver ran up his backstruts as more tendrils wrapped around each other, growing bolder the longer the sparks stayed close.

“Good.” Sunstreaker pushed his chest properly into Fireflight’s and his spark tugged the last little distance until they were merged, a single large orb hanging between their frames. Sunstreaker gasped silently as everything _Fireflight_ enveloped him. He took a minute to just revel in the pure essence of his lover, and then plunged deep into Fireflight’s spark. He examined everything he came across, the memories, the thoughts, the feelings and the bright core of Fireflight’s feelings for him. Sunstreaker wrapped himself up in it briefly, and then moved on to find the little connections that tied Fireflight to each of his brothers. They were strong and tight and almost visible as little weaving braids of energy and while he didn’t touch them he did wonder if his looked the same. Eventually he settled right at the heart of Fireflight’s spark and opened his own entirely to his lover.

At first Fireflight was hesitant in his examinations, explorations tentative and unsure, but the more he found the more confident he grew, and Sunstreaker could feel him take each little part of his spark and memories and decisions and emotions, examine them, and then accept them whole-sparkedly. It made Sunstreaker flush with love more and more with each of Fireflight’s acceptances and after they’d explored each other to contentment Sunstreaker simply let himself go, drowning in his partner and allowing the merge to take over completely.

It seemed both an age and an instant when Sunstreaker felt himself start to separate from the merge, and he and Fireflight both began to disconnect from each other until the golden twin was settled back into his own body even as his spark remained connected to Fireflight’s, and his optics snapped open as he vented shakily. He watched as Fireflight did the same, and then with a reluctant pulse their sparks began to detach.

To Sunstreaker’s surprise and delight, however, the feeling of Fireflight didn’t abate and he felt the thrill of realization and utter joy coming from the flyer as he registered the same thing. He found himself with an armful of Fireflight as a wave of emotions crashed over from him, and he could only cling back in response, flooding the new bond - _bond!_ \- with love and excitement.

He had no idea how long they sat there simply basking in each other, but eventually he was brought out of his reverie by the nudge of another presence in his spark, Sideswipe gently getting his attention. The red twin waited patiently for Sunstreaker to ease himself apart enough from Fireflight that he could concentrate on his other half, and once he had Sunstreaker’s attention he started almost glowing softly.

: _It worked, didn’t it?_ :

: _Yeah_.: Sunstreaker’s reply was breathless and happy and Sideswipe couldn’t help the swell of affection in response.

: _Thank Primus. Congrats little brother, and give ‘Flight a hug from me._ :

Sunstreaker tightened his grip on Fireflight a little. “Sides says hi,” he murmured, the first words spoken in what felt like forever.

Fireflight grinned before frowning a little, attention turning inwards. He abruptly giggled, face nudging into Sunstreaker’s.

: _Hi Sides!_ :

Sunstreaker stared at Fireflight even as he registered in the back of his processors Sideswipe’s yelp, both through the bond and out loud.

: _Fireflight? You can hear me?_ : Sideswipe demanded, utterly bewildered.

: _Yeah. Not as well as Sunny, I have to concentrate, but yeah, so, hi!_ : Fireflight looked at Sunstreaker with a grin. “So I got two for the price of one. Any revenge you need helping with?”

Sunstreaker simply stared at Fireflight for a moment longer, then swept him up into a kiss. : _Primus I love you,_ : he said fiercely.

: _I love you too. My bonded, mine forever._ : Fireflight replied, digits digging in as he kissed him back, feeling the echo of emotions and touches.

: _Bonded,_ : Sunstreaker repeated wonderingly. : _Bonded. Frag me, ‘Flight, they were right._ : He broke the kiss and laughed out loud delightedly. “We did it, we actually did it!”

“We did. I always believed we could. I couldn’t love you this much and not be allowed to have all of you,” Fireflight told him with a wide, happy smile.

Sunstreaker answered with a tumble of _love-joy-victory_ before a slightly thoughtful look came over his features and he tilted his helm in concentration. After a moment though he came away and shook his head, his smile never lessening. “So you can reach Sides, which makes sense because twins, but I can’t seem to reach any of your gestalt. I can feel they’re there for you, but there doesn’t seem to be a way for me to communicate with them or me to see if they’re communicating with you.” He looked a little satisfied at that. “Means I have you all to myself.”

“Vector Sigma gave us our bond. Maybe that’s why.” Fireflight shrugged before smiling a little wickedly. “Yeah you do. What you going to do with that bit of information?”

“Get myself fragged into oblivion through a merge,” Sunstreaker replied lowly, leaning back on the berth with mischievous optics and an inviting bond, spark still very much on display. “Sound good to you, pretty flyer?”

“I don’t deserve how good you are,” Flight groaned, chasing him slightly until he was hanging above them and when they separated this time, that was an insult to injury. “Really aren’t going to let you out this berth now.”

“Promises, promises,” Sunstreaker purred, and pulled his lover down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that! Thanks for coming along for the crack-ship ride, hope you all enjoyed it! :D


End file.
